Dream of a Dream
by littleCentipede
Summary: He who increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow.
1. Diary Entry I

In a way, I always felt like he was fortunate. He wasn't like the other kids, anyway. But only somewhat fortunate. Unlike the rest of us, he could dream. He dreamt of what he called 'a better place'. It was different from Paradise. Paradise was something he couldn't see right in front of him. It was too far away.

He always thought something different from the rest of us too… He followed God like a lost puppy. He cried for her, as we all did. He longed for her to come back, as she said she would. He was a believer. Just like us. He was part of us. But he was still different. I envy him for that, despite what happened. It's a strange sensation, to want what someone else had. But I suppose that's what ultimately killed him, even more so than his father's betrayal.

I look at him and I think of myself sometimes. Why couldn't I be like him? Why couldn't I see what he had seen? Where did it come from? What did it look like? What did it smell like? Did it have a taste? Even in death, I'll always remember the look in his eyes once he saw what he did. They were darker than usual, as if he realized the extent of his pain, and our pain alike. That it wasn't normal, so he said. I still don't understand, even now, after speculating for many, many years.


	2. The Guiding Hand

Goku soared through the clouds, gritting his teeth in a competitive grin. Behind him was Vegeta, growling in annoyance as he fought to catch up with his fellow Saiyan. Goku looked back at him with a curve of his spine, face flexed with a goofy grin, "C'mon! I know you can go faster than this!" Vegeta cursed at him, arms back and glued to his sides. He shouted at the younger man, "You're going to wish I can't!" With a burst of power, Vegeta shot towards him, the magnitude and crack of the sound barrier catching Goku off-guard, easily wiping the grin from his face, just before the two Saiyans collided and plummeted from the sky, grazing trees on their way back down to earth.

There was a clear pathway created from their fall, branches of trees completely ripped away from their bases and torsos. They landed in a pile, dragging in the dirt a few feet and leaving a deep trench in their wake. Goku burst into haughty laughter when Vegeta forced himself up and brushed mud and dirt from his clothing. "I don't know about you, but your speed is pretty explosive!" he joked, cackling on the floor. Vegeta glared at him, "You're insane. Get up."

Goku wiped at an eye as he continued laughing, getting up and brushing himself off. Vegeta went off a few feet, glancing back at Goku, obviously irritated. He grit his teeth before snapping at him, "Are you done!" Goku smiled at Vegeta when he calmed himself, "Aw lighten up, Vegeta. You need to learn to have fun." Vegeta's glare deepened and he looked away, "I'll have fun when I'm tearing you to shreds." Goku laughed again, "You wouldn't do that."

Vegeta smirked, turning around and getting into stance, his boots digging into the soft earth beneath him, "Try me." His boot gently bumped a small lump in the dirt, leaves from the fall-blushed trees slipping away, to reveal something pale.

It caught Goku's eye nonetheless, and he looked down, grin fading. Vegeta didn't take much notice, waiting for Goku to get into stance just as he did. He did notice, however, when he _didn't. _"Kakarot, come on! Come at me before I'm forced to attack you instead!" he said, obviously irritated and impatient.

"Uh, Vegeta?" Goku looked up at him, "Behind you."

"I'm not falling for that!" Vegeta's glare deepened.

"No, really! There's something behind you… It looks a little… unnatural," Goku's brows coiled upward, troubled concern flashing briefly in his charcoal eyes. Vegeta growled, rolling his own eyes before turning around partly, glancing around, "Where? I don't see anything!"

"On the ground."

Vegeta looked down at the white lump in the grass, speckled by black and lined by deep scarlet. He blinked, eyes narrowing slowly. "So? What about it?"

Goku went up next to him, "Doesn't it look strange to you?" He knelt down next to it, gently uncovering it with light brushes of his hand. As dirt and leaves fell away, Goku silently counted one, two, three, four fingers. And a thumb. He jumped back with a gasp, "Yikes! That's a hand!"

"So it's a corpse," Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest, "You see one, you've seen them all." Goku looked back at him, "Vegeta, that's terrible! Geez… I wonder how it got here…"

"Let me see," Vegeta pushed Goku out of the way as he knelt down next to it. He had seen corpses almost all his life, ranging from his own people to Frieza's men, his own partners to innocent civilians. It was a sight that didn't shock him anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he was horrified at the sight of a dead body.

"Looks pretty young. I'd say a teenager. Maybe," Vegeta mumbled as he analyzed the hand, gloved fingertips under the leathery palm and lifting it slightly, "Pitiful."

Goku glanced at Vegeta, urgency making him fidget like an impatient child, "Can you tell what happened!"

"No!" Vegeta snapped at him, "Would you calm down!"

"No! There's a dead kid right in front of us! Gosh, they didn't even get a chance at life!" Goku's fidgeting intensified. It was almost comical in a way. Vegeta could only stare at him over his shoulder before shaking his head with embarrassment. "It's a shock even now that you and I are of the same race." He stood up, and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Goku cried out, "You're not seriously just going to leave it!"

Vegeta glared at him, "Of course I am. There's nothing we can do for whoever it was. They're dead and gone. Just leave it be, Kakarot!"

"I can't! I can't just stand by knowing someone was murdered and just discarded here!" Goku grabbed Vegeta's shoulders and shook him, "Dig them up!"

"Let me go, you lunatic!" Vegeta growled, shoving away from him. "If it will calm you down, then FINE! For fuck's sake!"

Vegeta turned from Goku with a hiss, kneeling back down in front of the limp hand, reaching his own into the dirt to dig it out. He saw a twitch from the corner of his eye, Goku watching stiffly behind him. He then felt cold, rough flesh on his face, nails piercing into the skin of his cheeks, temples and forehead. His head jerked back, his growling shrieks muffled by the sickly colorless palm that crushed his nose underneath it. Vegeta then found himself swallowed by the dirt, with Goku grabbing at his ankle, letting out his own shrill cry, "VEGETA!" before following him down as well into darkness.


	3. Diary Entry II

When he was born, it was a huge spectacle. Everyone was afraid of him. He was older than me by maybe 4 months, and when I was about 7, he was almost half way to being 8. His mother died in the middle of giving birth to him. He almost didn't make it. She kicked the bucket when he was halfway out. He screamed more than the average baby, too. Any crying from any baby is distressing enough, but he cried just a bit more than he probably should have. I guess I shouldn't blame him. I'd scream and cry too if I was him.

His mom I guess was a real nice lady. Long dark hair, pretty green eyes. She was a mom alright, to everyone. Except for her own son. I didn't know her, but that's what people told me. They blamed him for her departure from this world. She had a sister who couldn't make up her mind about the whole thing. She had a nasty history of miscarriages. Only this time, instead of the baby, she herself died. A few people say she gave her life so that he could live. Everyone else says he took her life away from her. Called him a demon. A parasite.

He was taken in by one of the High Priests of our Church after his daddy disappeared. Or so I heard. Many rumors say that he took the man's life as well as his mom's. Others say he just left town, or even that he killed himself, but I'm pretty sure if he did that, it would be all over the news, just like his wife's death was. You couldn't really make out which was the truth. Truth is obscured most of the time by fear. But it's fear that keeps us alive day by day. It's what keeps our wretched hearts beating, no matter how much we wish it wouldn't.


	4. Last Haven

Vegeta grunted as he came to, Goku on top of him, their bodies making an 'x' shape on the rugged carpet floor beneath them. He groaned, shaking his head slowly with his eyes closed before he shoved Goku off of him, who also awoke with a pounding in his head. "What happened?" he rubbed at his eyes, looking around, "Where the hell are we?"

Goku opened his eyes and looked around him, blinking a few times to regain focus. Around them was nothing but black, invisible illumination barely lighting up one another's bodies so that they could see each other, but nothing else. The carpet below was a dingy maroon color, splotched with deep dark gray and crusty with age and filth. "No idea," he looked at Vegeta, thick brows curling at the sight of the cuts in his skin about his forehead, temples and cheeks, "Man. I wouldn't look in any mirror for a while if I were you."

Vegeta looked at Goku, head and neck jerking on his shoulders, "Excuse me!"

"…Your face?" Goku, pointed.

Vegeta brought his fingers up to his face, fingertips feeling around for any abnormalities. He felt puncture wounds over his forehead, cheeks and temples, wincing and growling as he did. Goku stood up and squinted his eyes, peering into the blackness around them. "Can't see a thing!"

Vegeta stood up, body jittery from the mixture and rage and minor pain in his face. "That hand grabbed me and pulled me down like it was nothing!" Goku looked over at him, "Oh yeah, I remember that. What was that about?"

"How the hell should I know! Since when have the dead had the ability to reanimate themselves!" Vegeta hissed. Goku cringed, "That's really strange… and kinda creepy!" He relaxed somewhat, folding his arms over his broad chest, "At any rate, I don't think we're in any danger here. I don't sense any powers or energies anywhere. I would like to be able to see where I am though."

The loud roar of a ki beam interrupted him and he jumped back, letting out a surprised cry, looking over at Vegeta. He had his arm out, face creased with fury. The beam traveled onward and disappearing, but illumination was suppressed, if not simply absent altogether.

"Vegeta! What are you doing!" Goku waved his arms.

The other Saiyan looked at him, teeth tightly grit, "What do you think I'm doing!"

"I don't know! But don't do that! We don't know where we are, and I'd rather not attract any unnecessary attention!" Goku glared at him.

A low base filled their ears, causing both of them to blink their intense saiyan eyes and look around, tensing up before a soft light peered in from a foggy glass window to their right. Four small walls formed around them, growing with a sickening fleshy sound before stopping and fitting with the flooring beneath them. The walls had a grayish look about them, unsaturated and dirty. Under the window was a bed, and a physical imprint on it of a young person laying on their side, facing the wall.

Next to the bed was a desk, fitted with a journal, a bible, a small lamp and a chair. There was nothing else in the room with the exception of a small picture on the desk, a larger picture on the far wall, and the door the lead from the room.

Goku and Vegeta both had their hands over their ears and their eyes tightly shut. Goku poked an eye open to look around at their new surroundings, "Whoa… weird… Did you do something Vegeta?"

Vegeta opened his eyes, hands straying slowly away from his ears. He winced still from the tears in his face, "Are you kidding? Do I look like a magician?"

"Well, at a certain angles-"

"Shut your mouth!"

Goku looked around, "What a strange room."

"It's a bedroom. What's so strange about it."

"It's so… empty. And dull. And… depressing."

Vegeta rolled his eyes and shook his head briefly. Goku had always been on the sentimental side. He on the other hand didn't care much for such trivial matters. So what if the room was lifeless. It wasn't his or Goku's problem. If the owner wanted to fix it, then they would on their own.

"Hey Vegeta," Goku said, having walked away from the shorter man towards the desk.

"What is it," said the other, broken away from his train of thought.

"Come here. Look at this," he said, picking up the small picture frame from the desk.

Vegeta sighed, annoyed at Goku and his constant need to be nosy. "What," he said, coming up to the man's side. "Look," Goku said, voice quiet, tilting the mahogany frame so that Vegeta could see the photo. It was a dark black and white photo, with dingy shades of gray ranging from light to dark. In the center was a young man, posture turned slightly, looking at the camera with dark eyes. He had dark hair, that spiked up to the ceiling. "…That's not you, is it?"

Vegeta snatched the frame from Goku and stared at it with hard eyes. "Of course not. When have you ever seen me in a suit?"

"He looks just like you… Even his unhappiness is uncanny," he said, turning towards the other slightly.

"It's not me…" Vegeta's voice trailed off somewhat, eyes narrowing and lids lowering. It was a disturbing sight, to see himself, a younger self staring back at him in a photo that was never taken. The young man had dark lines under his charcoal eyes. His face was blank. There was no smile. No happiness. Goku was right.

"That's creepy then… if it's not you, then who is it?" Goku backed away, eyeing the picture and its frame with a spark of fear in his eyes.

"It's nothing. It's probably just some cheap trick to scare us," Vegeta set the picture frame back down on the desk. "That's not me in the picture. It never has been and never will be. Would-would you stop it!" He glared at Goku, snapping, seeing the man shake with wide, fearful eyes, "Stop being such a wuss, Kakarot!"

Goku had his back against the empty wall, staring behind Vegeta, face completely pale and eyes wide. Vegeta blinked, staring at his rival, "The hell is the matter with you? You're not seriously frightened, are you?" Vegeta grinned and put his hands on his hips, "I knew it. You can be confident in your son's ability against an all-powerful being and yet when confronted with something spooky, you fall to pieces."

"N-no! B-behind you!" Goku pointed beyond Vegeta's shoulder to the bed behind him. Vegeta blinked, his smirk fading slowly. He just as cautiously turned his head, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. On the bed, the imprint was disturbed and he could see a slight shadow. The imprint implied two legs sitting over the edge. Before, it had been laying on its side, and as the imprints of slender thighs disappeared with relief of the mattress, the bed itself creaked quietly. A small chill of bitter cold brushed Vegeta's arm and he took a step back, face going pale. Soft footprints sounded and echoed quietly in the room, and naked footprints appeared on the carpet in a dark crimson color. There was a soft breathing in the air, aside from Goku's terrified gasping and wheezing. The footprints continued to the door where they stopped. They heard a soft sniff, the doorknob turning and the door itself then creaking open inward, the footprints continuing out before the door was slammed shut.

"What in the hell was that?" Vegeta said, a moment or two after the door shut itself. He was visibly shaken, but Goku was practically holding onto him. When the hairs on the back of Vegeta's neck fell, he became visibly irritated, "Would you knock it off! Get up, Kakarot! I'm ashamed of you! Unhand me, you coward!" Vegeta shook Goku off of him, and the taller Saiyan scrambled up, "Okay, let's leave!"

"Blast a hole in the roof and get us out of here," Vegeta said.

"Okay… Stand back…" Goku stood and took a step away from the wall, still pale. He brought his hands together and held them at his side, "Ka…Me…Ha…Me…!" He thrust his palms forward, "HAAAAA-uhhh…?" He blinked as no ki was blasted from his palms. Vegeta blinked as well, surprised. "Uh…Kakarot?"

"…Yes Vegeta?"

"Aren't you supposed to be blasting us a HOLE in the roof?"

"…Yes Vegeta."

"Is there a hole in the roof, Kakarot?"

"…No Vegeta."

"Then-"

"I can't use any ki here! I can't even feel my ki energy! Or your energy for that matter!" he shivered, arms dropping like limp noodles. Vegeta growled and pushed Goku away, getting into position to use his Galick Gun. When no ki energy was expelled from his palms, he retracted his position, blinking hard, "What the…"

Vegeta closed his eyes to concentrate, jumping up briefly to try and fly, but landed on his feet with a deep thud. He growled, glaring up at the ceiling and jumping, punching at it but receiving only painful parks on his knuckles, "Ah! Damnit!"

"Can we not bust our way through?" Goku piped.

"What the hell!" Vegeta shouted.

"…Let's just get out of here… We can worry about that later…" Goku inched towards the wooden door, hesitant but going regardless.

Vegeta seethed with rage, glaring up at the ceiling. He relaxed with a growling breath before he looked over at the picture frame, the picture of the boy that wasn't him in a photo that was never taken. He walked towards the desk and ran his fingers gently over the top edge of the frame before lowering it face down on the desk. He turned away from the desk and followed Goku out of the door.


	5. Diary Entry III

The story of God is a simple one. She created us from the bones and filth of the earth. She created the first woman, and then the first man, who was able to impregnate the woman and give birth to us. People. God showed them how to take care of infants, control adolescents and rule over people. Some people lashed out, though, not liking the mere prospect of being controlled by others. God wouldn't have that, so she killed them. Not smited or exiled, but killed. Burned. Staked. Skinned. Hanged.

Of course, since then the executions of criminals became not only more frequent, but more dignified in a sense. More and more crimes arose from the sin of men and women alike, and the executions were still made public, but they were made 'less barbaric'. They did it in public to teach children. Children were in the most danger of all of us. Anyways, I digress.

God died, and so did the first woman, now mother, and the first man, who was nameless. Men at the time were considered expendable. Any man could impregnate a woman, but only women could conceive. It's a unique chemistry. I still don't understand it. Sex was considered taboo and you could only perform when given permission by the high priest, who was the man that took him in. He was one of the very few men that were closest to God. We were not even allowed to see the high priestess' faces. Some say they were God's sisters. Either way, he was a horrible human being.

Why he took him in, I was unsure of until that horrible thing happened. I shudder just thinking about it. The high priest was never looking to have a son.


	6. Victor

Goku had stopped in the hallway, ahead of them a long narrow strip of flooring, railed off in a foyer. The steps went down to the foyer, connected on two sides of the wall. On the lower platform of the foyer was a shadow. "The hell are you doing, Kakarot. Go," Vegeta said, pushing him. "I-I'm sorry, it's just-"

"What? Just what? Scary? Grow some backbone, Kakarot. It's nothing," Vegeta said, shoving him. Goku whimpered as Vegeta shoved him, easing himself down the steps, relaxing as no apparition made its presence known. At least not openly. "I don't see anything beyond the stairs," he said, hesitant still to continue into the darkness down below. Vegeta only rolled his eyes, "Then go to the door ahead of us." Goku sighed quietly as he trudged ahead, almost hugging the wall as they trained towards the door opposite their steps.

Goku felt a chill when he neared the door and stopped abruptly, causing Vegeta to bump into him. "Kakarot, what is the matter with you!" he snapped. "You can offer me all the food in the universe and I still won't go near that door!" the younger Saiyan wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. "Oh for shit's sake, Kakarot! I can't believe how ridiculous you're acting!" Vegeta shoved past him, "It's an embarrassment to our race. I cannot even fathom-"

"Stop!"

Vegeta blinked, stopping in his tracks in front of the door, having reached a hand up to grab the knob to turn.

Goku behind him froze as well, shaking his head with his jaw hanging open when the shorter man turned to inquire whether or not it was him who shut him up.

Vegeta looked towards the door, both of them going quiet to listen, hearing a soft, ragged breathing that had been upset with fear. Excitable fear.

"Leave… Leave me alone!"

Vegeta blinked, lips parted to say something, but nothing coming forth. Goku, having lost his fear to the humanization concealed beyond the oak door, moved up next to Vegeta, "Who are you?"

"…It wasn't my fault… I only did what I was told!"

"Wait, what wasn't your fault?" Goku piped. Vegeta stayed silent, glancing between Goku and the door.

"Victor… that child had to die… He had to be sacrificed. It was God's will… He was the lamb to the slaughter!"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, "Sacrificed? Who's Victor!"

The voice, elderly and withered, became frightened again, "No! Stay back! You…"

Vegeta blinked, brows relaxing briefly.

"You are… No… Your voice… it's different from his. I remember his screams. His terrible screams. He had such a warm voice, no matter how dark he was. Yours is cold… and icy."

Vegeta scowled, brows furrowing.

"Who is Victor!" Vegeta growled.

"It wasn't my fault… It wasn't my fault! I only did what was best… I only did what was necessary! God's placation exceeds the importance of any human life, especially a child of such sin as he!"

Vegeta growled, gritting his teeth in frustration.

"I feel… both of them… Those children… They destroyed everything… that I had worked for…"

Goku's brows furrowed with anger, "You killed them! Just children! The fuck is the matter with you! What does it take for someone to be that heartless!" His voice rose to furious shrieks, which caught Vegeta off guard, quelling his own fury even for a moment. Goku grabbed onto the doorknob, shaking at it angrily, struggling to get it open, but to no avail.

"Kakarot, stop!" Vegeta grabbed Goku's arm, "You don't want to blow a gasket! Calm yourself!" Vegeta was never one to be the voice of reason. He was usually the exact opposite. But in this case, he preferred some level of cool headedness, especially with consideration to Goku's all-too-sudden fear of the dark and bumps in the night. "Killing this guy won't bring those children back," he said, calming Goku down. He grimaced to his own words, knowing that he would never say something like that in any other situation. He normally liked seeing Goku off his rocker, but this time was different. The circumstances were too sensitive.

He thought for a split second of little Trunks and his heart broke. Even the memories of Cell killing the future version of him made him grit his teeth hard and shake Goku's shoulder even harder. The voice behind the door went quiet, and Goku dropped his head, hand slowly lowering from the bonze knob. With a low creak, the door clicked open and slowly lingered inward, revealing a dark, empty room. It was a study, with shelves along the walls filled with books, and a desk covered in messy papers, pens and ink bottles. Goku and Vegeta both looked up as the door seemed to move on its own.

"There's nobody there," Goku said quietly.

"Look for anything pertaining to this Victor child," Vegeta walked past him and rummaged through papers on the desk. Goku looked at Vegeta, not moving. "…You think it might be that kid in the photo?"

Vegeta paused in his raid, but only briefly, "Nonsense. Just look."

"You can't just ignore it, Vegeta. That kid in the photo looks just like you," Goku said.

"Enough!" Vegeta snapped at him, turning around from the desk. "This is all just an illusion! It has to be!"

Goku stared at Vegeta with a blank face. The shorter saiyan growled and turned back around to the papers, rummaging through them before coming across a manila folder with the name 'Victor' scratched in at the top with an old, dying pen. There was no last name and Vegeta hesitated to open it up. He bumped the folder open, looking at the photo in the front of the packet. The piece of photo that once held the face had been ripped away, and papers beneath it gave testaments to the child's life. Vegeta, however, closed it, and turned away from the desk.


	7. Diary Entry IV

Victor was his name. My name? Not important. But I'll say it anyway. Geo. A strange name, yeah. It's short for George, but I hated that name. So I went by Geo instead. It suits me better I think. Even in death I hate that name. Mostly because my parents gave it to me out of passion for their ancestors, rather than endearment for me. My parents were wastrels at best. They left me to my own devices most of the time, and telling me to mind my P's and Q's, we're going to see the High Priest to cleanse your hateful soul.

I suppose had they not lived a life of negligence, I never would have become close friends with Victor. We stole away to the attic most of the time, hiding from my parents and his guardian. Every time I saw him, he had some kind of bruise. Once he had this terrible shiner. He said he tripped and hit his face against the corner of a rest in the hallway of his house. I didn't believe him. But I didn't say anything.

I think what hurt the most was the fact that since he was in the care of the High Priest, everyone thought he was fortunate in the very ways that I knew he wasn't. The High Priest was a horrible human being to begin with. Sin and loitering was taken very seriously under his roof. Everything Victor wanted to do was outrageously sinful in the High Priest's eyes. Dancing was especially prohibited. I'd never seen Victor dance, nor had he told me of it. But once, Victor was wearing slacks that completely covered his legs. Underneath them was a soft fabric wrap that went from his ankles to his knees.

A couple of weeks later, the wrap was off, and his legs looked as if they were mangled. Burn and welt scars covered them. I didn't ask, so he wouldn't have to tell. Things like this didn't happen because people never talked about it. It was widely accepted to maim and maul your children because it was God's will. God was appeased only through the pain and suffering of others, both innocents and criminals alike.

Victor was both in a sense. He was born into his contract, yet he also acted out in his lifetime, mostly to his guardian, which got him further maimed. I'm happy I wasn't there to witness it, but I also wish I could have done something.


	8. Tainted Lungs

Within the small study was a narrow winding staircase. Vegeta took the initiative and went topside while Goku stayed behind and looked through papers, reading through books and documents that looked important and relevant. What they were searching for he wasn't exactly sure, but Vegeta insisted on reading up a few things. Goku grabbed a few books, awkward as it was. Gohan was usually the one cramming in the text, so it was strange to take on the role of a scholar. He sat the books down on the desk and sat on the edge of the cushioned chair on wheels. The first book he grabbed was titled "… Origins; A Tome of …'s Timeless Beginning in 1654." Some of the words had been smudged over by something and were ultimately illegible.

It was a miracle that Goku could actually read what he was reading. He was normally faced with kanji, but this was English text. Every word made sense, as if someone was reading it to him. The text was a history of a town, speaking of the origination of a religious group, and then moved on to other things. The cult died off soon after but was revived years later.

"You'll never find what you need in here," said a voice, which sent Goku flipping back and falling to the floor in the chair. Ghostly pale, Goku laid there for a moment, shell-shocked. He struggled to his knees, fear in his stomach making him weak and ill. He looked up beyond the desk. There stood a boy, ghostly pale as he was, in a black shirt and jeans. His eyes were dark, as well as his lips and fingertips, pasty pale gray melting into a gangrenous black. Upon his head was black hair, much like his own, but limper, some strands over his eyes.

Goku stared at him for a long time. He didn't move or say anything, only stared at the saiyan with unblinking eyes. "Who… who are you? What's your name?" Goku rasped, holding with all his strength onto the desk, to keep from falling again.

The boy lowered his head only slightly, eyes still locked with Goku's. He closed them slowly and shook his head. Goku blinked, brows furrowing slightly. There was blood on the left side of the boys head, he noticed. He squinted his eyes, seeing pieces of skull matted to his hair, shattered chunks sticking up just behind his temple. "Hey… what happened to your…?" Goku rose his hand, pointing to the boy's temple. The boy's eyes followed Goku's pointing appendage, bringing his hand up to the side of his face and smearing away at a stream of blood.

Goku studied him as he looked at the blood coating his fingertips with a blank face. He blinked his eyes, jaw dropping slightly before he spoke up again, "Hey, wait… You look like-"

"Kakarot!"

Goku looked back, surprised from the sudden outburst behind him. Vegeta dropped down from the winding staircase and took a step up behind the other, "Who the hell are you talking to?"

"Just this-wha…?" Goku pointed back to the young man.

The boy was staring at Vegeta, eyes wide and lips slightly agape. Vegeta looked back at him, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brows in frustration. He bit back a gasp as he looked closely at the boy's face. "Kakarot! That boy! He-"

The young man rose his right arm, hand in a position that looked as if it was supposed to be holding something. It rose high enough at an angle, to be aiming at Vegeta's forehead. When his arm came to a stop midair, his lips slowly closed, and a low hum filled the room. A black matter started to form over the boy's skin, traveling like wandering snakes up his arm to his neck and sides, spreading over his torso, face and hair before continuing down his other arm and his legs. When it reached the floor, it seemed to flood towards the walls. The two saiyans panicked, stepping away from the traveling matter before eventually having to sidestep onto its already-formed surface near the child.

The furniture was soon engulfed, and once the room was completely covered in the black moldy mass, the hum ceased and turned into a soft, howling silence.

"What the hell just happened!" Vegeta looked around him, "The kid! He…? Kakarot!"

"What!" Goku panicked.

"How long have you been speaking to him! Have you not realized he looks just like you!" the smaller saiyan almost shrieked.

Goku blinked his eyes, getting closer to the now still, statue-like form of the boy in front of them. "Whoa, now that you mention it, he does look like me! And Goten, too! How about that!"

Vegeta slapped his own face, "I can't believe how dense you are."

Goku cringed, gently poking the boy's face, "…I wonder what happened to him… What is this stuff? It's… nothing I've ever seen before…" Vegeta looked around as well, smelling the layer on the wall before cringing back, "It's putrid whatever it is." He looked up the staircase, which was now covered. Vegeta wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to advance back up to the attic again. Not that he found anything up there that was of any use to either of them.

"Did you find anything up there?" Goku asked.

"No. What of here?"

"Nothing… I was going to read but then that kid showed up, and this all happened," Goku sighed. He went quiet for a moment before looking up at Vegeta, "Wait. If the kid up in the photo looks like you… and this kid looks like me… What do you think it means?"

Vegeta lowered his head. He didn't want to think about it. It caused his heart to beat faster than normally, and a sensation to fill his chest that he absolutely hated admitting he felt. He only felt it when confronted with Frieza. Fear.

Terror.

He had know idea what it meant. And whatever it was, he didn't like it. "Forget about it for now. We need to get out of here," he said quietly before heading past the frozen boy and out the door. Goku shrugged and followed him, glancing back at the boy over his shoulder as he walked.

Outside in the foyer, the staircase to the door they just came from was gone, but the stairs that lead down from the set was illuminated, leading down to a black and white tiled floor. Of course, the white tiles were obviously dirty, smudged and rusted with a reddish color. Vegeta went down first, knowing that Goku would obstruct traffic were he in front. In front of them was the front door and Vegeta went up to leave. He grabbed the long, slender knob and went to turn it. It didn't move, only gave a click in response. Vegeta narrowed his eyes and Goku stood quietly behind him. He wriggled the knob before pulling on it. It came off the door with a loud snap. Vegeta stared at the door blankly, blatantly dropping the knob before ramming his shoulder into the door.

Goku watched, face turning blue. He watched as Vegeta struggled, grunting and growling to open the door, "I don't think it's working." Vegeta snarled, backing away from the door. He breathed a sigh and looked up at the top edge of the doorframe, "Something doesn't want us to leave."


	9. Diary Entry V

Victor and I were both home schooled, as were all the other children involved in our group. I had my parents to teach me, and he had the High Priest. We both learned very different things, but both suffered the threat of being beaten each session. One slip, and you had a metal ruler across your face, arms or legs. It only stung, but when the corner caught your skin and ripped it, it hurt like a motherfucker. He always tried to hide his injuries, and the scars they left in their wake.

Scars… He had so many of them. I remember once, when he was staying with me at my house when the High Priest had business to take care of at church, we were both in the same room getting ready for bed. We undressed in front of each other, it really didn't bother either of us, even though if anyone else knew, we'd be spanked. He had his back to me and I was already in my pajamas. He took off his shirt, and all across his back was a litter of scars. A sea of scar tissue spiked across his spine, disappearing down under the waist of his slacks and going up as far as his neck.

From the front, Victor looked normal, besides the darkness that surrounded his eyes. He always looked as if he hadn't slept for weeks. He had nightmares frequently, at least he did when he slept over. He would always be awake, staring out the window of my room or up in the attic (should I choose to go to his house instead), with his blanket wrapped around him. The moonlight always lit his face like death's candle. Whenever I woke to see him like that, I knew it had to be some kind of nightmare. Despite losing sleep, he was always alert. He was always awake.


	10. Cancerous Logistics

"What do we do now!" Goku stood behind Vegeta with his hands and arms in the air, "We can't leave through the regular door now! We can't blast out, we can't punch out, what do we do NOW!" Vegeta stood in front of the door, staring down at the dingy disgusting floor beneath him. He struggled to think, to drown out Goku and his frantic, panicky ramblings. Ramblings about never seeing Chichi again. Never getting to rough house with Goten or pick on Gohan about Videl anymore. Never fishing again and getting giant fishes to bring home to a flustered Chichi and give her a pat on the shoulder but forget my own strength and accidentally knock her through the wall and a tree some thirty yards away from the house. Oh my god what the hell do we do now.

"KAKAROT!" Vegeta shot around, screaming at the other.

Goku froze, staring at Vegeta with his jaw on the floor.

"SHUT UP!" Vegeta was hunched over, feet shoulder length apart and hands strained, as if wanting to latch onto Goku's throat and wring him senseless. Goku blushed and scratched the back of his head, "Sorry." Vegeta scowled at him before turning back around, scratching at his own scalp. He grit his teeth in frustration. He felt trapped. Like a filthy rat. "There's got to be some way out of here. We just have to look around for it. Think you can handle splitting up?" he looked at Goku, brow arched. Goku stared at him incredulously. "Um… Sure… I'll give you a call if I… find anything," Goku said with a nod and a nervous grin. Vegeta could only sigh and shake his head, "If there's anything here, they're just ghosts. Don't let them scare you."

Goku laughed again, nervousness filling his voice, "Yeah, sure, you're right!" He walked off through a door that swung on its hinges freely. It must have been the kitchen. Vegeta sighed quietly, watching the door swing back and forth before it came to a stop. He went through a different door. The walls within were saturated with red, deep sickly grunge collecting about the creases and corners between planes. He cringed at the décor, and kept away from the walls. Within was a desk sitting in front of a clouded window, which, unlike the rest of the room, was clean. It glowed a soft pale gold, and over it was the silhouette of a cross; around its intersection was a circle. Vegeta stared up at the symbol displayed before him, eyes narrowing with a peculiar curiosity mixed with grim suspicion.

He stepped further inside, quietly shutting the door behind him. Everything was silent, save for the soft echoing rhythm of a heartbeat. He stopped himself and quieted his thoughts to listen. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He scowled and shook his head, ashamed of himself for acting so cowardly. He moved forward towards the desk and shifted through the papers. Underneath was a diary. Vegeta carefully picked it up, wiping away dust from its cover. The cover was wordless and he arched his brow, mumbling under his breath before opening it.

"Can hardly make any of this out," he said quietly, flipping through it. He went back to the first page, where it read in neat writing 'A Memoir for my Beloved Brothers of God. May the Evil that Seeps in our Hearts be Swept Away by the Torrential Flames of God's Wrath." Vegeta's brows quirked, twisting in a half-scowl. He went through to the last page and quietly began to read.

_That child will die tonight. Only a select few were invited to witness it. Not everyone is graced by God enough to behold the outcast of Evil. Nothing can go wrong. I've groomed him for this day. For God. I have fooled him all these years. But that's what you must do with the tainted. You must deceive them just as they are deceiving you. The demon's ruse will be exposed tonight. Amen._

Vegeta's grip on the book was enough to break it. He shook with a torrential anger, an anger he had never before felt. With something else… Was it… betrayal?

"HOW DARE YOU!" he threw the book at a nearby bust, causing it to crash to the floor. He hunched over, knees bent with legs apart and almost struggling to keep himself from collapsing. These mixed feelings deep within his chest and stomach were familiar. His explosive outrage, along with a hateful anger and feeling of betrayal from somewhere else… Where though he couldn't decipher. They were familiar, but not of his own. Vegeta slammed his hands on the desk, breathing hard. His heart pounded against his sternum. He hated what he read. Hated it more than he probably should have. Deception was a game you played with your enemies during combat. To use it as a means to lure a young man to his death was an evil unspeakable to Vegeta's cleansed soul. Images of Trunks flashed through his mind again and his rage boiled. He kicked the desk away, breaking it in half, and walked ahead towards the bust he obliterated with his toss of the book.

Kneeling down, he sifted through the remains, finding a bullet that seemed to have already been fired. It was covered in scratches and burns, and the back end of it was crushed. He stood up , staring the bullet over. A tugging feeling kept him from discarding it. He looked over at the book, staring at the last couple of pages he read partly from before tossing it away. He reached over and grabbed the pages, ripping them from the book, but not reading them just yet. He stood back up and headed for the door.


	11. Diary Entry VI

I remember Victor's mom had a sister. I forget what her name was. It was almost like she didn't have a name. Victor's mom's sister seemed to be an appropriate reference to her. I wouldn't call her Victor's 'aunt'. She wasn't really an aunt to him. She was just Victor's mom's sister. I remember she had bright golden hair and big blue eyes. A completely different result from Victor's mom. She was pretty though. She always wore a light blue dress, modest with her sleeves poofing out around her shoulders before tightening down the length of her slender arms to her wrists. She had a collar and ruffles over her bosom and sparkly red shoes. She was pretty materialistic. Always loved her sparkly things. The High Priest, strangely enough, didn't seem to mind it. He had a thing for beautiful blond ladies, I guess.

Whatever the reason, she was allowed to buy things. And things she did buy. Victor and I looked at one of her diamond rings. It had a big sparkly diamond on it and we liked how it glittered and shone in the light. Victor's mom's sister was a nice lady most of the time. There was a deep seeded confusion within her though, I felt, when she considered Victor. She loved her sister, and she wanted to blame him for her death. But she knew something else. Something else that none of us saw. She hated Victor's father, and saw a lot of Victor's father in him. She loved him because he was his mom's son, but she hated him because he was his father's son too.

What she knew that we didn't left subtle scars. One time, she tried to put an end to the nightmare by filling up a bathtub with cold water, and holding Victor's head down under the surface in an effort to drown him. He fought back, but got weaker by the second, and passed out. The high priest heard the ruckus and stopped her. After that, we never saw her again. They say she went to the mental hospital. That she was insane over the death of her sister. But there was something more to it I think. She knew what she was doing. How she felt about it, though, will never be answered. I'm happy that Victor was saved that day. Partly. I was happy to have a friend, but all things considered, I think it would have been best that he did die that day.


	12. Necessary Cruelty

Goku made a mess of the kitchen while Vegeta was in the office. The normally chrome and white room was rusted and dirty. Goku didn't want to touch anything, but in order to search for anything of importance, he had to pick things up with the tips of his fingers and hold them out at a distance before dropping them to the floor and kicking them away. He found nothing of particular interest. Even the refrigerator was a pointless endeavor. What little food there was, he wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole. When he was done with the place, it was more of a mess than it was before. He could hardly see, and ended up tripping over most of what he had discarded in his frantic search.

He stalked through the space between the counters and the island, nearing the door when he heard a low, agonizing moan that caused him to stop next to a cabinet drawer. With his hair standing up and face pale, Goku bit down on his bottom lip, eyes blurring with excitable fear as he looked at the cabinet. It had streaks of blood roaming down its edges, and he felt a stinging curiosity to open it. He reached up, taking hold of its slender metal handle, the grease that covered it making him cringe and his stomach churn. He pulled on it, but it refused to open. "Huh?" he blinked, before latching his other hand onto the handle and pulling. The handle snapped off with a loud crack, sending Goku flying back and flipping over the island.

He hissed from the loud clatter and winced, digging himself out from the pile of rusted dishware he was suddenly buried under. Getting up, Goku looked at the curved metal in his hand. He sighed and dropped it before scratching at the back of his head, "Well, how am I gonna open that now?" He sighed and squinted his eyes, looking around him, "I can't see a thing." He went towards the door and felt the wall around it, "Gotta find some kind of light." He patted the walls, squinting his eyes and feeling around for a switch. Finding two rows of switches, Goku smiled widely, switching up the first one in the top row. It lit up the long fluorescent lights above with a deep hum.

They were lit for perhaps a second before blinking and sparking, light fading along with Goku's happy grin. "No, no damn, don't do that. Please?" he flipped the switch again, the lights not turning back on, "Crap!" Goku frantically started flipping all of the switches, numerous fans, blowers and whatever else turning on, all but the lights. "AH!" he panicked, flipping at the switches. A small bulb in the back of the kitchen turned on with a spark, and Goku stopped his frantic flipping. He went near the light, squinting his eyes as he examined it closely. It was a candle. A lit candle.

"Wait a minute…" Goku said quietly, "…How did this candle get here… And… And who lit it? Oh jeez…" Goku shivered and picked up the candle by its tray, looking around for something to use with it. He found a stray metal bar hanging from the ceiling. "That'll do!" he said with a grin. Setting down the candle on the island, Goku climbed up with a grunt and grabbed onto the bar, twisting it and pulling it down. He jumped back down onto the floor and grabbed the candle in his free hand before returning to the stuck cabinet. He set the candle down on the counter before jamming one end of the bar between the door and the cabinet's edge, pushing it forward to pry it open. It took a lot of effort, with Goku gritting his teeth hard and every muscle in his body straining. "Ngh, come on!" he forced out, eyes tightly closed.

With a loud pop and slam, the door of the cabinet swung open, out falling a small body, causing Goku to let out a shrill scream and drop the bar on his foot. He backed away from the cabinet, face ghostly white. "Good lord… what the hell… was that…?" he gasped, breathless from his scare. His heart raced in his chest, and he felt dizzy, and sick to his stomach. Once he regained his composure, Goku looked down at the body that fell from the cabinet. "God what is it…?" he whispered, kneeling down at a distance to look at it, "…Is that…" He held the candle over it, revealing matted fur and a frozen face, "…a cat…? Oh man."

He stood up, looking away from the dead thing, covering his mouth as he did before looking back up at the cabinet. "Who would do something so heinous," he said quietly. Inside, the cubby was empty, aside from a pistol laying there quietly. He reached in and grabbed it, picking it up and grimacing as trails of red goo followed it out, "Ewwww."

Goku looked the pistol over, wiping it briefly on the counter to get the goop off before he held it by the candle to see, "…A gun? What's a gun doing in a kitchen cabinet?" He cocked his head, arching a thick brow before shrugging and grabbing the candle. He headed for the door before hearing a loud scream on the other side of the wall. He jumped, "Vegeta!" A loud crash ensued, accompanied by the hallow crackle of a breaking piece of ceramic. "Geez… I wonder what set him off," Goku said, scratching his head, "I wonder if he saw something he didn't like…" Vegeta, Goku knew, didn't like a lot of things. He briefly wondered if it had anything to do with that Victor kid that man kept talking about. Goku sighed softly. Something was going on and it was much bigger than what they were imagining. Whatever it was, he didn't like where it was heading. First the photo of younger Vegeta, the photo that Vegeta says wasn't him, then the kid frozen and encased in… grunge in the study, who looked just like _him_.

But what did it mean? Why were they dragged into this place that they couldn't escape from? Why them? Goku shook his head, hopefully things will start making sense later on. He left the kitchen, meeting with Vegeta, who had just left the office. "You okay?" Goku asked, looking at Vegeta's face. The was pale, but he was more angry than frightened. Vegeta nodded wordlessly before looking at the other, "What did you find?"

"Just a gun," Goku said, holding it out to him. Vegeta took it with a shaky hand and shook it, "How did those earthlings use these things…" He pulled every lever on the gun, including the trigger, which only gave a soft click in response. "It's empty." He messed around with the gun before the magazine fell from the device. Vegeta knelt down and picked it up, looking inside and finding a small piece of paper within. He gingerly took it out, handing the gun back to Goku, who knelt down to pick up the magazine and slide it back in.

Vegeta opened the note.

_The key lies deep beneath the waters._

Vegeta's brow quirked with confusion, reading it aloud, "The key lies deep beneath the waters." He looked up at Goku, "The hell does that mean?" The taller saiyan gave a worried shrug, "Let's go back upstairs." Vegeta sighed, letting Goku go ahead. There was nothing more absurd to him than this human need to believe that they were sheep under an all knowing shepherd. The fragility of their feelings in their beliefs alone had the ability to them into creatures with a degree of evil even he cannot fathom. He didn't want to understand why the child in the photo looked just like him. He knew somehow the evil in this house had something to do with that boy. And Vegeta didn't want to see it. At any cost.

After a quiet moment, Vegeta followed Goku up the stairs into the den. The boy was still there, stiff as a statue, encased in hardened grunge. He still held his arm out, hand out in a holding position. Goku studied him, sitting on the desk. Vegeta looked at Goku, then the boy. He felt a deep throbbing in the side of his head, and he grimaced before holding out his hand, "Kakarot."

Goku looked up at Vegeta, brows arched.

"Give me the gun."

"Ah… Alright…" he said, holding the pistol out to Vegeta. The smaller saiyan took a couple steps forward and took the gun before moving towards the boy. He studied his hand and carefully slipped the handle of the gun into his palm, securing the case in his hand. The fingers instantly wrapped around the gun, index finger on the trigger. Vegeta backed away from the statue of the boy as the grunge started to melt off and evaporate, both from the child's body and the walls, floor and ceiling. Slowly, it reverted back to its original dusty décor, and the boy was back to normal. He, however, did not drop the gun, and fired a single bullet, cracking open the sternum of Vegeta's armor with a loud pop.


	13. Diary Entry VII

The cruelty of what happened was the likes of which no one before had ever seen. I only witnessed part of it, and the sounds, the smell, let alone the sight of it, are permanently etched into my memory. I will never forget Victor's screams, forced from his throat, filled to the brim with his agony, and followed up by a soft rattle from the back of his palette. Even his inhales were like the shrieks of banshees longing for their own swift demise. His voice was high pitched then, too, when normally it was quiet and even a little bit deep. The usual endearing rasp was gone. They emanated from his being, almost like a terrified sobbing, coupled with grunts in an effort to endure something on the side that wasn't as bad as it really could have been, in comparison to everything else.

The mere seconds I spent looking were stilled simply from being stunned at the sight of it. Time passed on and fractions of seconds felt like hours. I felt sick to my stomach, seeing my best and only friend enduring worse than what was laid upon livestock. Somewhere deep within me, I felt that even God, as wrathful as she was, would never stand for this. Even in their brief intermissions, when the priests and high priests would say their few, empowered words, Victor's sobbing was all too apparent, and he cried for God's mercy. No, he didn't cry for it. He screamed for it. He begged them to stop at first. And then to just kill him later on. He even begged the audience to do something, but stiff in their seats they sat and merely observed, some with grim looks on their faces, others with wide, grins and their hands tight into fists. It was as if they were watching a movie. Only it was real.

And they loved it.


	14. Two Shots Fired

Goku couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. Vegeta flew back the instant the gunshot rang through the room, echoing out into the hallway and disappearing into the void beyond the staircases. His head flew back and his eyes shut tightly, teeth gritting before his mouth opened wide. His armor shattered, and his sternum severed with an ear-splitting crack. "VEGETA!" Goku shrieked. Vegeta could only respond with a gurgle in his throat. He fell onto his back, head turning to one side and his body going limp. His body started to dry out and turn to dust, withering and melting into the floor. Goku screamed again, off the desk but frozen in his place, "VEGETA NO!" The boy looked at him, eyes dark and face grim.

Goku looked at him, face pale and stricken with horror and grief, "How could-How COULD-!" he stammered, staring at him.

The boy rose a hand and snapped his fingers. Almost immediately, Goku started to calm, eyelids going limp, and dizziness started to cloud his senses. He groaned painfully, lowering down to his hands and knees, holding himself up with all his strength. The boy walked over to him, looking down at him. Goku looked up at the boy that looked just like him. No, it wasn't him. It was something darker. Goku, he knew, and Goten for that matter, were never this dark. And hateful. "Who… Who are you… Tell me…"

The boy simply shook his head as he did before, and pressed the muzzle of the gun to Goku's forehead. Goku only raised a hand and grabbed his wrist, grip weak and shaky, "Tell me… please…"

He kept his mouth shut. The only reply Goku received was a bullet plowing through his forehead and exploding out the back of his skull. Goku stared up at him still, even as the boy's body faded as it turned and walked away. His vision went dark and blurry and he fell to the ground, the shattered bits of his skull splattering on the ground behind him in a bloody splash.


	15. Diary Entry VIII

Two shots were fired that day. I remember the bullets trudging through space as if in slow motion, mere nanoseconds feeling like torturous hours. The air was thicker than molasses. The stench was overwhelming. The screams were painful to my ears. And then, as if by the good graces of God herself, it stopped. It all ceased to exist in an instant.

Then, everyone looked at me, the most pale teenager they had ever seen in their entire life, as if I had snipped the very film of their favorite cinema. Victor was quiet then. His pain had left him. God had shot herself from the muzzle of the pistol and whisked him away in her arms. And I wished then that I could join them. When the second deafening shot blew out any and all traces of my feeling, police sirens sounded in the distance, slowly getting louder as my vision became whiter. Not too long after, people's panicked screams rang out like church bells on Sunday morning. I knew then that it was over. Victor and I were safe.

But…

It didn't stay that way for long.

In death, I could hear Victor's breathing. It was scarred and ragged, raspy and pinned in his throat. His body may have been free from pain, but his soul still suffered. It was a near constant immolation. His pain and hatred and anger were all so strong, they burned me like white fire. He was inconsolable from that point on. I didn't know what to do. I had lost myself in my own misery. The paradise we found wasn't a paradise at all. We were still ensnared in the barbed net of our faith's culture. God was nowhere to be seen.

It was as if then all our suffering had been in vain.

My hate grew just as Victor's did. I didn't try to quell it. Victor and I had been tortured so needlessly. When we returned to the living realm, the order was in a state of upheaval. Our bodies were covered by gray blankets in the morgue of the neighboring city, soaked in blood. The medical examiners gave us so much kindness, even as our bodies were simple lumps of flesh on cold metal tables. No autopsies were performed. They simply weren't needed. The causes of death were all too obvious.

The order itself was under investigation by the police. The high priest was arrested, among those that either participated or watched. My parents were arrested as well. Some were put to death. The high priest received a life sentence. He killed himself around a month or so later. That, or Victor killed him. It was a heinous sight. I knew that if the high priest didn't do it, then Victor did. The man's heart had been gouged out, as well as his eyes and tongue. The 'murder weapon' was never _found._

I never thought once before I could ever hold such a dreadful desire for the death of a single man so terribly.


	16. Necropolis

Goku's head pounded, each beat of his heart causing his head to twitch from the pain. His eyes were closed, lips slightly parted and head tilted back against something stiffly cushioned. His ears rung and he grimaced, gritting his teeth and turning his head to the side with a grunt as he slowly came to. "Ahh…" he breathed with a groan, slowly shaking his head, "Ow…" He cracked open an eye, seeing nothing in front of him but a dim, flickering fluorescent light. It was directly over him, softly humming, buzzing whenever it flickered. Beyond it was a plain ceiling, dark grey and lined with pipes. He allowed his eyes to adjust, turning his head away from the light before he was able to handle the glow. Gathering all his strength, Goku forced himself up in a sitting position.

His body felt bare. In fact, it was. There he sat, in nothing but a pasty pale gown, a tag on his toe, on a metal table. Goku ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes once more before he forced himself to register his surroundings and current condition.

His head pounded furiously, and it made it difficult for him to focus on any one thing for more than a few seconds. He flinched and shut his eyes tight again, hands going to his ears as they rang fiercely. "What… What happened," he forced out, head aching with every syllable, "V… Vegeta…" He briefly remembered what had happened. It was dark and dusty… Vegeta standing next to him…

The boy returned to normal.

He fired the gun once… at Vegeta.

And then twice at Goku.

That boy…

"DAMN IT!" Goku slid to his feet and collapsed to his hands and knees, head hanging low from his shoulders, spine aching from the pressure, his weakness allowing gravity to slowly pull him down to the ground, stretching out his tendons and ligaments, threatening to snap them. His eyes shut tightly, and he grit his teeth hard, "FUCK!" A slender vein pulsed hard in his forehead. He cracked open his eyes, anguishing growls escaping through clenched teeth, "Vegeta…" His hands went up to his head, spine arching further as his forehead touched the cold tiled floor.

"How could I let this happen…" he grunted through clenched teeth, "I can't sense him anywhere… He's gone…"

With a painful moan, Goku stood up, his hands gently falling to his sides. Looking around, he slowly blinked his eyes, squinting at all the glints from fluorescent lights bouncing off metal tables and gurneys, all backed with elongated lumps covered with white blankets splotched with crimson. Pairs of feet poked out of every blanket, each with a tag attached to a single big toe from one foot.

"These are… bodies…" Goku whispered to himself, frozen in his spot. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. He looked back at the gurney he just removed himself from. "…Am I dead?" He reached his hand up, feeling for an entry wound to his forehead. There was nothing there, nothing more than a scar. He felt the back of his head, almost expecting to feel shattered bits of skull. But nothing. His hair was still there. All fine with the exception of a throbbing in the back. "No wound… How did I end up here?"

"I brought you here."

With a sharp gasp, Goku swiveled around to face where the voice came from.

There he was, the young boy sitting on top of a gurney, his legs gently swinging back and forth, as if he were simply sitting on a railing at a local park. He was slouched forward, elbows resting against his thighs, dark eyes downcast to the floor with his wild hair nearly hiding his face. He was dressed in dark clothes; a dark brown t-shirt with jeans cut short at the knees, all tied together with a belt and a pair of sneakers on his feet.

Goku blinked his eyes at him, taking a moment to regain his composure and recognize who he was. His face contorted with anger, so much so that he could have gone super saiyan had the environment allowed it.

"Why did you shoot us!" he shouted, fists clenched and feet planted shoulder length apart on the tiled floor.

The boy was silent before looking up, "Because I had to."

"You had to! What does trying to kill us prove!" Goku was shrieking at him. He grit his teeth hard, mind racing so fast he got dizzy, "Where's Vegeta? What did you do with him!"

He was quiet again, still sitting there with his legs swinging alternately back and forth, "I don't know."

"You don't know! You have to know!"

"I don't know. Victor took him. What Victor does with Vegeta is Victor's prerogative, not mine."

Goku went quiet, taken aback to the mention of Victor.

"Victor?"

"Yes."

Goku had to stop and think for a moment, "Wasn't he… That kid that man mentioned earlier?"

The boy didn't answer. He only sat there, swinging his legs.

Goku only watched him, his anger growing again inside him.

"Who are you? What role do you play in all of this?"

The boy shook his head slowly, "My name isn't important… but if you must know…"

"…It's Geo."


	17. Diary Entry IX

The incident was national news. It soon became global, and troughs of people came to our tiny little town. The press were cold individuals. They treated Victor like an attraction. And I hated it. I hated them for treating us like zoo animals. I took care of them, needless to say. A large vat in a city street became loose. Not only did it attract even further attention-albeit it most of it was away from us-but it also placed an ill-perceived curse upon the town. I wouldn't say the town was cursed, however. I just don't like optic-flashes flooding my body and Victor's, and having explicit photos of them posted everywhere. The world didn't need to know of this atrocity. It was better off not knowing.

I remember so clearly when Victor and I were in the morgue. I was set off to the side, a spectator like always. Victor was laying face-side-up on a metal table, a blanket over his waist. A bright light shown on his body, which was littered with sewn seams. Doctors surrounded him. Some of them had clipboards, while others with latex gloves studied and perused.

They lifted his head up from the table briefly before setting it back down and lifting up his chin, opening his eyes and his mouth, peeling back his lips and turning his head to the side to look into his ears. They held his wrists delicately and lifted up his arms, massaging the muscles to feel how tone they were. They pressed and evaluated the musculature of his torso, before murmuring softly amongst themselves about his wounds, refraining from touching his torso. Instead, they moved down to his legs, felt the muscles and checked the bones of his feet. They gently tilted him onto his side to feel his back, spine and neck.

I could feel the soothing comfort filling his soul to their care.

Of course, that was until they set him back down and grabbed a syringe. "We'll get his eye fluids and blood for testing," murmured a woman-doctor with a keyboard. She was allowing a younger doctor, shaky and nervous as he was, to extract the fluids, while two others held open Victor's left eye. He gave Victor an uneasy look, as if he were expecting Victor's eye to look right at him just before the needle was about to go in. I half-expected it as well, as cruel as Victor could be.

But after all that loving attention, Victor seemed to let them off easy, with only the subtle breathing in the room. Once they got his fluids and blood, they covered him back up and rolled his gurney up next to mine.

It was nice, for once, to be in a strange settlement of peace with him.

That was, of course, until we found you.


	18. Corticosteroid

Vegeta couldn't breathe. His breath was hitched. His nostrils were blocked by something, and his lips were sealed by something warm. No… it was hot. And fresh. A soft floating piece of something dawdled against his cheek. And another piece wrapped around his arms. And another around his legs. A thick, heavy slab rested against his side. His mind swam in darkness, head throbbing with an audible beat of his heart causing him to bob each and every time. When he became semi-conscious, he realized he couldn't breathe. When he realized he couldn't breathe, he became aware that he was drowning. In something hot, thick and sticky.

Vegeta rose a hand from the murky depths, rubbing his fingers together. The feeling of this hot fluid was metallic. It was a familiar feeling. And it didn't bode well for him. He pulled his fingers apart, feeling a soft, sucking smack from the sticky fluid smeared on his fingertips. Sticky and slick at the same time.

Vegeta burst from the fluid, screaming a shrill, high pitched shriek, his throat trembling with a pure, nameless feeling that caused his stomach to churn, his chest to pound and his head to spin with a horrible buzzing sensation just behind his cheeks and eyes. Splashes of crimson waved against walls, dripping down slowly and even spattering back onto him as he clamored up and over a cold edge, sloppily spilling himself onto a tiled floor with a sickening splash.

His screams were animalistic, eyes still shut and hot copper spilling past his teeth, only to be expelled soon after along with the Saiyan's stomach contents, adding more to the mess around him. Choking noises escaped Vegeta's throat, clear acids spilling down his lips and dripping from his chin. He wiped the seeping fluid away from his eyes and he blinked them open, his breathe coming in sharp, horrified gasps.

He looked back from whence he came. A bathtub. Thick scarlet swayed gently in waves, bobbing within it pieces of innards.

Vegeta looked away with a sharp, painful gasp, shutting his eyes tightly. He felt sick to his stomach, crouching there naked with his body coated in blood that wasn't even his. He could only bring his hands up to his face and scream, a painful pitch breaking the normally deep raspy tone of his voice. "KA…"

"KAKAROT!"

The bathroom around him, save for the blood on the walls and floor, including the vomit, was white and pristine. The mirror over the sink just behind him was fogged, as if someone had just taken a hot shower. Vegeta couldn't focus on the beauty of what wasn't tainted, his naked form crouched tightly with his spine coiled, head shoved down past his thighs which were buckled together by his knees, and his hands over his head. Thoughts provoked from the bathtub just next to him flooded his mind and made the buzz triggered by the sheer fact that he was completely under in a bathtub filled to the brim with blood worsen and make him dizzy. He felt a hand on his head and the sensations of icy water against his face and he couldn't push away the feelings of terror.

Tears bled from his tightly shut eyes, mixing with the blood that was now starting to stale against his cheeks. "STOP IT!" he shrieked again.

"STOP IT NOW!"

The images stopped and a low base hum filled his ears. His trembling was all too apparent now, as his voice poked through with his shaking breath. He sat there crouched for what felt like a long time, his eyes closed and his voice coming out like sobs.

"Kakarot," he hissed, voice sounding as if he were just regaining his composure after a shock, "Where are you?"

In a stricken panic, Vegeta clamored about the bathroom, grabbing thick white towels and furiously wiping himself off, grunting and growling as he did, drenching towel after towel with stark red. He still felt the sticky staling stain of blood all over his body, but there was nothing he could really do to wash it off.

"Where are my clothes…" he whispered to himself huskily, "Why… What the fuck is going on…"

"You have to get out," said a quiet voice, raspy like his own and as if from out of nowhere.

Vegeta looked up, shaking and startled, covering himself from any prying eyes that might belong to the same being the voice did.

When he looked up, a door next to the sink appeared and was open, a young figure standing within it. It was shrouded in darkness, a mere silhouette, but it seemed all too familiar. Vegeta studied him for a moment, narrowing his eyes, "What do you mean 'get out'?"

The figure lowered his head, spiky pine-cone hair shrinking a little to indicate as such, "Vegeta… How many times in your life have you ever felt truly at peace?"

Vegeta was taken aback by the question. He was quiet for a while, unable to think of any kind of answer.

"You don't know, do you."

The Saiyan could only stare at the silhouette in the doorway.

"What do you want from me?" he ground out.

"…I want…"

The figure lowered his head.

"Are you Victor?"

Silence.

"Tell me. Are you Victor? Are you that fucking child in the photo? Who looks exactly like me?"

More silence.

"Answer me."

Again, silence.

Vegeta was growing impatient.

"Save me, Vegeta. Geo and I… are too far gone. This hate is too much."

Vegeta could only stare at him, incredulously at best.

"Geo?"

"…My best and only friend."

"Why us? Why Kakarot and me? How the hell do you even know who we are? Why did you bring us here to this godawful place?"

There was silence again from the figure And Vegeta rose to his feet, wrapping the last clean towel around his waist. He looked at the figure, smaller than he now that he was on his feet. The small thing was lanky and short, his hair wild, like his own.

"Victor."

"I couldn't find anyone else."

"Anyone else?"

"I could only reach you…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Please, Vegeta…"

"No, Victor," Vegeta shook his head, reaching his hand forward and grabbing that small, bony shoulder. Following that was a shrill scream, the silhouette pulling away from him, that terrorized cry ending in a bewildered sob. Vegeta was taken aback and even scooted away somewhat, retracting his hand and eyes going wide.

"I'm-I'm sorry…" the silhouette choked. Even facing Vegeta, he was shrouded in darkness. He was what he was. A shadow.

"Just… please, Vegeta. I don't want to explain it."

"Why not?" Vegeta's voice cut deep with his ever-growing irritation.

"I just can't."

Vegeta, not caring for the shadow's discomforts, reached forward and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him harshly into the light. For the first time, Vegeta felt a sense of helplessness, seeing the pale gray-white skin emerge under the cool glow of the bathroom's lighting. Even so, he shoved him against the wall, grabbing him by the wrists as he flailed and screamed, pinning him down. He stared at that face, that young face that mirrored his, sharp widow's peak and all, even as it contorted with childish fear. Vegeta's eyes widened and teeth grit hard at the very sight of the young thing he manhandled.

He was covered with injuries. Cuts, bruises, streaks of blood, patches of skin missing and exposing bloody muscle underneath. He was wearing a black shirt and fatigue shorts, with his feet bare. Blood seeped along the middle of his torso, staining his belly and legs while burns along his back melted his clothes to his blackened skin.

"Don't-Don't!"

"I'm not going to hurt you. Tell me what the hell you're talking about, Victor. _Now_."

"If I tell you, you won't help me!"

Vegeta scowled at the cowering young thing, pushing his injuries aside, as they didn't seem to be actually bothering him, "I don't even know what it is you want me to help you with, much less refuse it for some stupid reason that you can't find any _other_ single fucking reason in your withered self to reveal!"

There was silence between the two of them, the boy's shivering gradually coming to a halt. He looked up at Vegeta, opening his eyes for the first time. Vegeta stared into those eyes, his grip on Victor's wrists tightening as he did. He saw nothing but pain. And sadness. But most of all: hatred.

"I want you… to make it stop," he said in a quiet voice, "…Make it all go away."

Vegeta was silent.

"Make them all die the deaths that they deserve. I want you to make the hatred stop. Geo and I are so tired. Please… take our hatred away."

Vegeta glared at him, gritting his teeth hard. He remembered his own hate, his hate for himself, for Frieza, Kakarot, Kakarot's friends, his own family, the enemies he had faced… It made him sick. He remembered the relief he felt when he was finally able to let it go during the final stretch against Majin Buu. He growled softly at Victor, "Hatred is not something you take away."

Victor stared at him.

"Hatred is something you must let go yourself."

Victor's face went dark, the hatred in his eyes intensifying. The white of the bathroom began to ripple and erupt into a sickly black mold around them. The mirror cracked and the bathtub began to drain with a low gurgle. Vegeta looked away in shock as the bathroom around him seemed to decay in a matter of seconds.

"You won't help me?" Victor asked, staring up at him.

Vegeta looked back at the boy. The child's face was stony and serious, and it sent a shudder up and down the Saiyan's spine.

"I _can't _help you, Victor."

Victor's darkening features deepened and the grunge of the wall behind him started seeping up, slithering over his body and drawing him in with a sickening seeping sound. Victor only continued to stare at Vegeta with darkness in his eyes even as he dissolved into the wall. Vegeta shot himself back as the boy disappeared into the wall right in front of him, and everything around him grew cold.

"Victor!" Vegeta shouted, staring at the wall before looking all around him, "Damnit Victor…"

Growling, Vegeta shoved out of the bathroom, heading down gray, cold, rusted hallway. "What is this fucking place!" he shouted. Fear gripped his chest and panic caused his head to buzz again and he fled down the hallway.

The walls, as if in response, rippled before slowly bursting with mold and filth.

"I can't help you stop hating, Victor!"

His movements burst into a sprinting dash as the hallway started to rock. His voice rose as the roar of the rumbling get louder, "You have to stop hating by yourself!" Vegeta growled when he ran smack dab into a door and fell back onto his bottom. He hissed and stood up, opening the door and running through it, shutting it hard and locking it. He turned around and blinked, seeing a dark room. It was the room that he and Goku first dropped into. It was calm and untouched by the filth outside. There was a soft sniffling in the air and Vegeta shivered. A pile of clothes sat on the bed and Vegeta furiously changed into them. The sniffling got louder.

Vegeta grit his teeth hard, "Victor… I know what it's like to hate. To hate as hard as you possibly can. It hurts and it sucks, Victor. But you can't just expect someone to take it away. You have to let it go. I don't know why you're hating so much, but you need to let go!"

The sniffling intensified and the dull light within the room started to fade into shallow darkness. A soft clack sounded behind Vegeta and he began to panic, "Victor? What are you doing?" He looked behind him and saw that the door was chained and locked, "Victor!"

The sniffling progressed into full-blown sobbing and the walls of the room began to burn, fire igniting in the corner before disintegrating the walls, the bed and the floor beneath him. Everything went dark as the fire breathed out with a huff of air. Vegeta rose his arms in front of his face, grimacing as the ground beneath him shook. Everything stopped, and Vegeta looked up briefly, slowly lowering his arms. Everything was silent and dark.

A dim light filled the area, and Victor's room had disappeared into something larger. It was like a warehouse, only not as vast. It was eerily quiet, and Vegeta tensed up, struggling to raise his power, but failing. "What's wrong with me… I can't raise my power at all…" he ground between grit teeth. The silence continued for a while and Vegeta called out in a gentle, quiet tone, "Victor…?"

It wasn't long before Vegeta felt an explosion in front of him, shutting his eyes tightly and raising his arms over his face once again. The sound was deafening, the grinding of concrete falling and crumbling after exploding out, as well as that of screeching metal tearing and bending under incredible force. In place of the wall that just seemed to destroy itself was a face, a giant face, on a head, supported by a neck, shoulders, half of a chest and two long slender arms. Vegeta lowered his arms as the behemoth writhed before him, attached at the torso to the ground and the wall and held up at the neck and shoulder blades by series of giant chains.

Vegeta's face went pale to see the creature before him. "Victor…?" he said, breathlessly, "…Is that… is that you?" The beast rose its head, hair disappearing into the darkness of the ceiling. Its thick brows were furrowed into that ever-present Vegeta frown, but its eyes were blacked out, sockets hollow and spilling bloody tears down bruised and cut cheeks. Supporting itself on its arms, the creature rose its head and growled before roaring, lifting its head up with lips curled back to exposed jagged teeth, framed neatly with Saiyan canines. Its roar rumbled in its throat and chest and it lowered its head, snarling in another breath with its lips in a sneer. It looked directly at Vegeta in front of it before letting out another low growl.

"What the hell are you?" Vegeta breathed, powerless to defend himself against this thing, this whatever it is.

Before Vegeta could blink, he found a gigantic hand slamming him into the wall behind him before another came and swatted him into a corner. The gigantic creature shrieked, pounding a fist against the floor underneath it and its other into the wall to its right. Vegeta lay in a daze, head spinning from the sudden attacks. He had to somehow fight this thing and not get killed, but without his power, what could he do? "Damnit…" he groaned, struggling to get up.

Multiple times did the beast lash out and crush Vegeta against the walls before retracting again and letting out an agonized groan or shriek or roar. Vegeta struggled to stand, body aching all over. The stickiness from the blood earlier made him nauseous.

He shook his head, "I… Am the Prince of Saiyans… I will not be defeated, Victor… I will not be defeated by the tempers of a mere CHILD!" He stood up and faced the monster before him, the image of Victor at his angriest. He shot forward, muscles burning to keep himself up and quicker than those swift swinging arms. He engaged the beasts face, landing blow after blow and eliciting painful cries before it finally shrunk back, arms collapsed against the metal floor. Vegeta jumped back away from it, panting and glaring at it. It's head shot up and it shrieked, thrusting its arms forward, slamming Vegeta into the wall before gathering him into its palms, squeezing him, holding him up and snarling at him.

Vegeta shrieked and screamed, unable to move against the immense force crushing him. "VICTOR!" he shrieked. Vegeta's screaming intensified, hoping that his power would somehow raise, despite the painful headache that was forming in his head from it. It was lessening the pain to a degree, but he was growing weaker by the second. The creature then slammed Vegeta into the metal ground below.

The thing continued to slam Vegeta into walls and pummel him into corners, tossing him into the ceiling before crushing him back into the metal floor again, but over time, its attacks began to weaken and it slinked back away from Vegeta the next time he forced himself up. He looked over at it, watching it cringe and growl and whimper. It was covered further with injuries, matching the ones that now covered his own body. He stared long and hard at the defiant teenager face that he once shared, and he snarled. He stood up on his feet and watched it carefully. He looked down at his hands and his arms, exposed by the new tank top and jeans he now wore. "This… No…" he said, looking up at the behemoth in front of him, crouched on its giant arms and weakened. It wasn't just exhausted…

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and stared long and hard at the thing, not flinching as it rose a hand and reached for him, but was too weak to even grab onto him.

"Your strength is fading, isn't it, Victor. Poor little boy," he growled softly. Vegeta leaned forward slightly before dashing towards it, slamming a cold, hard fist into its forehead, and jumping back. It gave a horrendous howl before falling down, collapsing completely with its head touching the floor, eyes still hollow and open, but jaw slack and blood seeping from its lips. Vegeta stared at it, hunched forward slightly from the pain of his injuries.

Standing there, Vegeta watched as the creature began to change, dissolving as grunge formed over the floor and crawled all over it like sick mold before it finally disintegrated into the floor and the entire room around him went black.


	19. Sepulcher

Geo didn't look at Goku once he gave his name. He remained silent on the gurney, his legs still swinging back and forth and hands flat against the rusted chrome metal, almost as if he were bored and waiting for something to happen. Goku stared at him incredulously. His expression was darker than before, but it didn't seem to affect the boy in any way. His replies, what little of them there were, were robotic and cynical. Goku, after taking in the boy's name, stared at the floor stretching beyond his feet. He grit his teeth hard, clenching his fists tight at his sides. His head rose after the silence between them and he stared at the boy with cold eyes.

"Who are you in all of this," he ground out, "Why Vegeta and me. How could you possibly subject us to this putrid rat hole. This nightmare on Earth."

Geo remained silent, but closed his eyes.

"Is this all some kind of game? That you're playing? Are you the instigator in all of this?"

Geo's eyes narrowed, tight as they were closed. His fingers curled around the rounded edge of the gurney upon which he sat. He shook to these accusations, shaking his head almost violently, "SHUT UP!"

Goku froze, eyes going wide to the outburst from the boy. Geo looked up at him, eyes narrow and angry, but worst of all, hurt, "You think I created this place just for the fucking hell of it? For shits and giggles? You. Know. Nothing."

Goku narrowed his eyes and went to him, grabbing him by the shoulder of his shirt and shrugging him off the gurney, "Then tell me what's going on!"

Geo shoved away from him, knocking into the gurney and sending it back in a slow, shaky skid. Bringing his hand forward, he looked down at the old, worn book it now tightly grasped. "Read this," he said, handing it gingerly to the Saiyan. "It will tell you everything you need to know."

"Why can't you just tell me outright?" Goku looked at the book now in his hand and back to Geo.

"Because it hurts too much. Why do you think Victor called you here?"

"I didn't know he called us here to begin with."

"Victor has… his way with things."

Goku looked up at Geo, silent for a moment. "So, you mean that hand… was…"

Geo nodded slowly.

Goku went quiet, looking back down at the diary. He felt a need to sit down before he fainted, but decided to only shake his head, "…So he's…"

"We both are. Can't you tell?" Geo rose his hand to the exit wound on the left side of his head, where skull fragments and blood caked and congealed. Goku stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted, "But… but how… You're… You're those two children… aren't you… that that old man's voice talked about."

Geo's face contorted with anger, "Yes. That man isn't a man at all. He's a monster. He's a heinous piece of worm shit. There will be a time where Victor and I set him ablaze in the very fiery pits of the hell he created. He's a murderer. A thief. A blood-sucking worm."

Goku put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Calm down." His voice softened, now regretting having yelled at and antagonized the boy like he did. Geo stared at Goku, "That man created what you are in right now… He caused all of it. If it weren't for him… No… No, he's only part of it… Please, Goku… You and Vegeta must… Must-"

He froze. Goku froze with him, staring at him, his face ashen and covered with bruises and cuts, face framed by streaks of blood from the entrance and exit wounds of the gunshot to his head. A low base filled the room they were in, the low fluorescent lights flickering and humming deeply. A low scream sounded and Goku covered his ears, but Geo backed away, small trails of blood traveling over his skin. He began to tremble as a rage slowly filled him, buzzing in his chest and forehead. Goku watched him wearily, backing away even with his hands over his ears and face contorted with pain.

"I knew it," Geo hissed. He grabbed the gurney behind him and flipped it back, allowing him further room to back away, "I KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE CALLING YOU HERE!"

Goku's eyes widened and his hands lowered from his ears, dropping the book to the ground.

Geo's eyes went completely black and the ground beneath them began to shake, the plastic concrete along the walls peeling and dripping away like melted and flaking wax, revealing a dark, rusty understructure. Geo stood with his spine coiled slightly forward, body streaked with black and red, "I'm going to KILL YOU."

"Geo! What are you doing!" Goku cried out, fear pounding in his heart.

"I KNEW YOU WOULDN'T HELP!"

By then, the room had gone completely black, and Goku couldn't ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. Everything went quiet, save for a deep, shuddering breathing that resonated throughout the lab in which they were in.

"Geo? Geo what's going on? What's wrong?" Goku kept calling out into the darkness, beads of sweat falling down his face.

When Geo next appeared, the white of his skin glowed in the darkness, obviously interrupted by black wounds and blood, as well as his dark clothing. In his hand was a knife, a chef's knife, it's tip spattered with blood. He came after Goku with the knife raised, tackling him and holding the knife up, aimed for his face.

Goku shrieked in surprise, the young boy now on top of him with a knife raised in an effort to kill him.

Geo's hand wrapped tight around Goku's throat, his wrist encased in Goku's hand. The Saiyan's other hand went up to the boy's other wrist, to keep him from slamming the knife down at his face. "Geo…! GEO…!" he choked. With the slip of Geo's arm, the knife found its way into Goku's shoulder, causing him to tilt his head back and scream in surprise and pain, eyes wide. The blade ripped itself from his flesh before finding its way again into the arm latched onto his other wrist. The blade found it's way to Goku's face, leaving thick cuts and gashes in his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose, forehead, and slicing his ears. Goku shrieked with pain, not wanting to fight and hurt Geo, but if he kept this up, he was going to end up in multiple pieces.

Goku soon found himself covered in his own blood, the pain from his skin being sliced overwhelming and bringing tears to his eyes. Geo still had that robotic look on his face, cold and hateful with teeth grit behind relaxed lips. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched as he took swipe after swipe, deciding to make this unforgettable even in death for the dumb Saiyan. Goku grabbed at his arms, shrieking, "Geo STOP!"

"No," he said simply, before raising the knife and swiping down, cutting at Goku's neck, just barely missing his carotid. Goku screamed again, the pain making it hard to focus enough to grab onto Geo's limbs to stop him. Geo continued to effortlessly cut and slice at Goku's body, the Saiyan's screams ringing out into the rusty walls and reverberating through the metal.


	20. Slaughter House

Vegeta sat himself down on Victor's bed, elbows on his knees with hands hanging between his thighs, and torso hunched over with head low and eyes closed. He couldn't believe what he just witnessed, what he just _did_. He looked over at the bedside table and reached for the picture frame. He gingerly picked it up and turned it over, looking at the photo inside. He blinked and gasped, his breath catching tightly in his throat. The somber image was now dirtied and bloody, Victor's young face now torn and cut and bruised. There were tears on his face, though his expression didn't change, with the exception of his eyes. Those eyes that he remembered staring into with an uneasy intensity.

Vegeta quickly set the frame down on the bedside table, leaving it teetering for a moment before settling face-down. He shuddered and rubbed at his eyes, shaking his head slowly. What did he just witness? What did he just kill? That monster… it was Victor… but it felt like himself, too. But what did that mean…? He could scarcely remember flashes of images depicting an old man, and others of Frieza. He shook his head, trying to dispel the images from his mind. His head ached and he could only hope to make it go away from rubbing his temples.

"…Have to find Kakarot," he murmured to himself, standing up with a groan. His body still ached, noting a few broken ribs and tremendous bruising. It was possible that he might go pay Dende a visit whenever this nightmare was over. But first thing's first. Kakarot was gone and he needed to find him. The man was probably wetting himself for all he knew and he could feel his face flushing with embarrassment just from the thought of it. The image itself was much worse, and Vegeta decided to focus on other things.

With the shake of his head, Vegeta stood back up and went to the door, examining the strings of heavy chain and padlocks littering it's surface. He examined them, thick brow twitching with annoyance. He took a padlock in his hand and gave it a tug, before letting it go and grabbing at the chains, giving them a swift yank. He grunted, unable to pull them from the door. He growled, hating not having use of his power. Even if it wasn't his full power that he aimed to use, at least his normal strength that made him more than capable of snapping a chain link in two with the flick of his wrist.

This was Victor's doing.

With a deep sigh, Vegeta looked around at the room. As far as he knew, he was trapped until he could remove these locks. Vegeta examined it closely, narrowing his eyes, "One… Two… Three… Four…" Four locks on one door? Not counting the one that was built in? For fuck's sake. Vegeta rubbed at his eyes and growled, turning away from the door and proceeding to search the place for the keys to the locks. He ransacked first the most obvious places: the bedside table drawers and dresser sitting in the various corners of the room. Shifting through the dresser first, Vegeta narrowed his eyes at what looked like church clothes. A nagging voice in the back of his mind urged him to take them out and look them over. And he did, holding them out in front of him with outstretched arms, as if searching for clothes for Trunks. Or at least mimicking the way Bulma did when she was shopping for clothes too.

He held a church shirt up to his chest. It was way too small for him. Vegeta blinked his eyes slowly, remembering Victor in the bathroom. He was scrawnier than any rat Vegeta had ever seen. His muscle mass was pathetic, and he seemed emaciated. His clothes hung on him fare looser than they should have normally. He lowered the shirt and gently set it down on the bed. With a slow sigh, Vegeta went through the drawers again. He found nothing within, but went through the clothes and found something narrow and made of metal, buried deep within a pocket of black slacks. He gingerly pulled it out and gave it a look over, finding the word "Boning" inscribed on its neck.

"Boning Key…" he said aloud before setting it in clear site on the dresser top. One down, three to go. Vegeta continued to ransack the dresser, finding nothing else even in the clothes. He went to the bedside table, pulling out it's small drawer and finding a wallet. Curiously, he pulled it out and opened it up, finding no ID, but a note that read:

_I give my thoughts and prayers to those that need it most._

With it was another key. Looking along it's neck, Vegeta read aloud, "Carving Key." He narrowed his eyes and set it with the other key sitting quietly on the dresser top before going back and looking around. The strange names of these keys had him on edge, but he needed them to get out of this room. Vegeta spent the rest of a half-hour seeking the other two keys, finding one under the mattress of the bed and no clue as to the whereabouts of the fourth. He set the third key, "Peeling Key," down with the others, and gave a frustrated growl as the fourth one proved more of a challenge.

"It has to be here somewhere," he stopped his aggravated tromp to reason with himself, "Come on, Vegeta… this is child's play compared with the other such bullshit you've had to deal with…" Looking around the room, he started patting at the carpet, ripping up the corner with harsh yanks. Inch by inch the carpet was ripped from the wooden foundation beneath it. There was nothing there, but Vegeta continued to pat around the room, tearing through the mattress and searching through its springs. Still, no key.

Vegeta discarded the mattress and sighed quietly, sitting down on the cold wooden floor beneath him with his legs crossed and arms resting on his knees. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. It was much easier when he could just bust down the wall into a million splinters. But this just sucked. Vegeta looked up at the walls and stared at them, squinting his eyes as a slight discoloration caught his attention. Standing up, Vegeta moved towards a spot in the wall that was colored lighter than the rest of the walls. "Hmmm," he stared at the spot on the wall before reaching up a hand, scratching at the material. It came off easily, and Vegeta looked around for something to strike it with.

A picture frame hung on the wall opposite of the bedside table. The picture within the frame was that of a woman, but Vegeta didn't focus on it. He took the frame and snapped it, taking one of the L-shaped pieces and striking at the patch. It slowly began to crumble away like chalk, falling away and dispersing into clouds and powdery heaps on the floor. Waving the dust away, Vegeta gave a low cough, eying what lay beneath the plaster. It was a safe lid with a small sticky note resting on the dial. Ripping it off, Vegeta silently read it.

_Two names, two minds, two lives, one face; right the first then right once more; number of letters is the next left pace; then back to the first with its slot in order to open the door._

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, staring at the note incredulously. "What the fuck?" He looked up at the safe lid, "It needs a combination… Wait…" Looking back down at the note, Vegeta sat back down and stared at it. "Two-two, two-one… Right, right… Number of letters? In what?" He looked at the note again. Two names. Two minds. Two lives. One face.

One face…

Vegeta lowered his head and thought to himself, closing his eyes as his brain worked to figure this out. He lifted his head and looked around for a pencil. Finding none around, he cursed and stared up at the ceiling, silently counting on his fingers and naming off English characters.

V-E-G-E-T-A.

V-I-C-T-O-R.

"Six," he whispered to himself, "Two-two, two-one, six… First… First what? Slot in order… Goddamn what does this all mean?" With a deep sigh, Vegeta stood and imputed numbers into the safe's combination, turning the knob right to 22, then right again to 21, left to 6, and left 22. With a low clack, the safe unlocked and the door opened. Easing it open, Vegeta reached inside, grabbing a note and the fourth key. He opened the note and read it aloud, "We are the same." Vegeta stared at it for a moment, silent with his eyes half-closed as he did. His heart ached. His stomach churned. The stale blood that stained to his skin made itself more evident and made him feel sick and disgusting. Discarding the note, Vegeta looked at the final key.

"Butcher's Key."

With a shudder, Vegeta grabbed the other three keys and undid the padlocks, releasing the chains from the door and dropping them to the side. He grabbed onto the knob of the door and lowered his head, freezing as he was about to open it. "…We really are the same…" he said in a low hiss.

Opening the door, Vegeta stepped into a void, shutting the door behind him and looking around. There was nothing around him, at least until he took a step forward, then the soft hum of fluorescent lights burst to life in his ears. He winced briefly, lights flickering to life above him and revealing a dark, cold lab of some sort. Gurneys surrounded him, mounted with bodies covered with gray blankets. He sighed deeply, hating the motif of nearly every room he found himself in. The central fluorescent light shone over a spot on the floor in the middle of the lab, the spot on the floor wrenched with blood and resting above that puddle: a small brown book.

Vegeta took a couple steps forward, kneeling down in front of the puddle of blood and grabbing the book. Even as he picked it up, it retained none of the red stuff, which struck Vegeta as odd, considering it looked freshly spilt. The smell of the blood caught his attention and he became alert, looking up, "Kakarot…"

Setting the book down, Vegeta put his face further down, smelling and allowing his Saiyan instincts to confirm his insight.

"Kakarot?" he called out, grabbing the book and standing up, looking around. It was frightening that his friend's blood drenched the floor, but there was no sign of the man around, nor was there any indication that he had moved away. No dripping trail lead from the pool and it just stagnated in the middle of the floor. The smell of his rival and friend upset him, and he couldn't keep his face from twisting into a scowl.

"KAKAROT!" he shouted as loud as he could, his voice ringing and reverberating off the walls around him.

Vegeta turned away from the puddle, holding the book under one of his arms and putting his hands to his face, shaking his head with a groan. Turning away from the puddle, Vegeta sat down and opened the book. He sighed deeply, resting his face against one of his hands, this thumb under his chin, his index finger lining with the parting between his lips, and his other fingers supporting the other.

_In a way, I always felt like he was fortunate. He wasn't like the other kids, anyway. But only somewhat fortunate. Unlike the rest of us, he could dream. He dreamt of what he called 'a better place'. It was different from Paradise. Paradise was something he couldn't see right in front of him. It was too far away._


	21. Final Warning

_The final page of the diary is smudged with pencil lead and blood and dotted with fingerprints. You can't make out what it says and the bottom half of the page has been ripped away._

_Something about it is eerie to you, and you feel a sense of madness permeating from the paper itself._

_But it's more than just madness. There's something more, something you can't explain and yet you understand perfectly._

_It's hopelessness._

_There is no hope in this world and you fully realize that._

_You're at the end of the diary and yet you still can't make sense of the world around you. You feel scared about what happened, and you don't want to find out any further, yet something deep within you eggs you on. Inside, you're terrified, for those that had suffered, as well as yourself. What will happen to you? You're horrified by what you previously read, and you want it all to stop._

_But it won't stop._

_The mental demons that dwell this place are slowly manifesting into apparitions that plague your senses. You hear a low clang in your head and you know that it's all just a hallucination. It's followed by sadness. And pain._

_Hatred._

_You know fully well what it does to others. You know what it does to you. You've felt it before, that buzzing in your head, that undeniable rage that causes you to lose yourself in a frenzy. You remember throwing something once in a past life. It may have hit the wall or just clattered over the ground, shattered to pieces or stayed intact, you can't recall for certain._

_But you know the feeling._

_And it's awful._

_This pain and this rage and this hatred boils all around you. It drips seamlessly from the diary in your hands. You drop it to the ground._

_You know all that you can stand to know._

_Even still…_

_You're not ready to see the truth._


	22. Void

Vegeta had his face in his hands by the time the small brown book was on the floor between his feet. His breathing shuddered and he shook his head, growling deep in his throat. The shaking of his head intensified before he finally stood up and shouted, "I've had ENOUGH of your BULLSHIT, VICTOR!" Standing up, Vegeta went over to the puddle of blood, dropping down to his knees and slamming his fists into the puddle, making it splash and ripple, "This is Kakarot's blood." He rose his head, teeth gritting tight and his eyes shut, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"

"It hurts to lose your friend to the tides of fate, doesn't it," said a voice behind him, the voice split into two, one belonging to that wretched Geo boy and the other much, much deeper. It caused the hairs on the back of Vegeta's neck to stand and his blood run cold in his veins. Vegeta opened his eyes, the chill in his blood quickly reverting to a boil. He didn't look behind him, only stayed with his hands in Goku's blood. The voice behind him continued even still, "This is what happens, Vegeta, when you go against the one who rules every granule upon which you stand."

Vegeta seethed, "Victor has to let go on his own. I can't help him let go of his hatred."

"You're an imbecile if you think that's what he wants," the voice continued, "Victor has already been consumed by his hatred and his pain. He wants you to end it. To end _him_."

"He's already dead," Vegeta spat.

"That may be, but his soul still lives on. His spirit. His emotions. His memory. His existence is still written within the minds of those who knew him."

"What the hell do you expect me to do?"

"Kill him."

"I _can't_."

"You must."

"I told you, I CAN'T!" Vegeta ripped himself up off the ground to face where the voice was coming from.

There stood Geo, his eyes completely gone, showing nothing but empty sockets darkened by the lack of lighting. Vegeta bit back a gasp at the sight and took a step back.

Vegeta grit his teeth as hard as he could without chipping the enamel or breaking his jaw bones, "There's nothing I can do. There has to be some other way." Geo shook his head slowly, "You still don't understand, do you. Just as well… it's about time I make you understand."

Geo rose his hand, palm facing Vegeta with his fingers outstretched. Vegeta tensed up and watched him, growling softly and clenching his hands into tight fists. Geo disappeared and a low base boomed in Vegeta's ears. He winced and looked around him as the room turned red and the fluorescent light above him began to flicker. Hearing a sickening peeling noise, Vegeta looked back ahead of him before looking down at his arms, watching as his skin peeled and stripped away from dark red muscle. His heart and stomach twisted as he watched the layers of his skin peel and strip away as a single unite from his arms and hands, revealing the deep, dark burgundy red muscle underneath, lined with pulsating veins red and blue, with hints of bone and opaque tendon and ligaments. Vegeta's breath quickened into wheezing gasps as he rose his arms and watched his skin peel away from the muscle.

The strips themselves whiffed away to the ceiling, disappearing into the blackness. The skin on his face began to crack and divide into individual pieces and strips, peeling away just as the skin on his arms did, that on his neck and torso and legs following suit, and the only sound left in that room as the light flickered off was a raspy voice shrieking out at its highest peaks.


	23. XXXXXX

Vegeta was startled by a light above him. His hands were on his face, covering his eyes. He was standing with his feet and knees together, spine hunched forward with his head low and knees bent.

"_My brothers, my sisters! It is time, the time that we have all been patiently waiting for."_

Vegeta felt a low hum vibrate around him, and he kept his hands over his eyes. His jaw felt weak at the hinges and his stomach burned at its walls. It bubbled slowly, sick with acid.

"_Not once in a hundred years have we been bestowed with such privilege to gather here like we do today."_

Vegeta felt himself shake, his eyes burning behind his eyelids. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and scalp, dripping down slowly and causing his skin to tickle slightly. They rolled down to the back of his neck to his spine and he felt cold.

"_But now, my friends, we are here not to bask in the Glory of our Gathering, but to Dispel a horrible evil."_

Vegeta dug his nails into the skin of his face. He bit down on his tongue, molars chewing into the sides of the fleshy muscle, even as it twisted and twitched as if involuntarily.

"_Witness here today, the spawn of evil. The killer of his mother. The price paid of his deserting father."_

"What are you doing…?"

The voice in his ears was breathy, young, and like his own. Raspy and from deep within the chest.

"_We have a job to do, my friends."_

Vegeta shook his head.

"_With God's blessing, we shall succeed!"_

There was a cheer from a number of people. Around twenty or so.

Vegeta was in the middle of them. Invisible. Unseen. He was the intended spectator of spectators. He slowly, ever so slowly, peered up from behind his trembling hands. The air around him was thick with anticipation. Nervousness. Fear. Ahead of him was a table, a table like an alter, but elongated like a gurney. Upon it was a small, young figure, laying on his back. His hands were bound above his tall dark hair, and his feet as well at the other end. Beyond it stood another figure, draped in robes. On either side of him were tall stands with candles at the top, their flames flickering violently and giving the room a hard glow.

His hands dropped to his sides as he stood there, eyes transfixed on the boy. He looked around, face pale and twisted with fear. His own face. Terrified and confused. He tugged periodically at the metal cords that bound his wrists and ankles. He was wearing nothing but a plain gray t-shirt and shorts, his feet laying bare.

The man beyond the table rose a knife.

"What are you doing! Father, please!"

"_It's time my friends. It's time we put a stop to this."_

"Father! Don't!"

"_It's time we cast out this pitiful evil!"_

"NO!"

The knife fell, striking Victor's chest and eliciting from him a gasping shriek. The man paused, still holding onto the handle of the knife.

"_Join me, my friends, in prayer aloud, as we cast out this abomination!"_

Vegeta's stomach dropped, the blade of the knife soaking up as much blood as it could hold before expelling it out down between the boy's legs, slicing down his middle with a fleshy rip. Victor's head was back, eyes wide and almost bulging from their sockets, mouth open and calling out an animalistic noise that forced Vegeta to put his hands to his ears. He screamed at himself to shut his eyes. Look away. Don't watch. His heart raced and his heart pounded into his stomach, eyes wide and lips trembling.

Victor laid there screaming, his blood milking over the table and between his thighs, staining his shorts with his shirt flayed open. His body jerked and writhed, tears forming in his eyes blinded by pain. His screams deluded into sobs. Vegeta's hands were over his mouth.

"_Alas, my friends. Listen to it cry out. Listen to the demon scream for its leader to save it from its pain."_

The man stabbed him again, in his stomach, riddling his intestines with smooth cuts and gashes, before going to his arms and stabbing straight through the smooth skin and slender muscle.

"_Never again will you have your arms to taint our community with your disgusting hands!"_

"FATHER, NO!"

The man moved to his legs, hacking through the clothing and rendering him naked. The man cut down the insides of his thighs, spilling bright red over cool milky white.

"_These legs that which propel you through the darkness to taint our light will never again serve you!"_

"STOP! PLEASE!"

Vegeta dropped to his knees, hands secured over his gaping lips. Saliva threatened the heated skin of his palms, melding with the sweat as his fingers clammed up and his blood ran cold, draining almost completely from his face and filling his stomach all the way up to his throat. He felt weak. Weaker than he had ever felt before. He felt like a child. A weak, helpless child. So much so that his arms dropped from his mouth and dangled limply at his sides, his knuckles brushing the cold, hateful floor beneath him.

The man stopped, the knife in his left hand now instead of his right.

"_My friends. Listen to him cry out. Watch his face redden and his eyes leak pitiful tears. His lips part and cry out with his suffering. Poor little one, how you suffer so. The pain you feel is unimaginable."_

Victor sobbed as the man put a tender hand on his chin, fingers stroking up his jaw line to his cheek in a caress, thumb running over his bottom lip to his eyes, soaked with his tears.

"_Worry not, little one. The evil is almost gone. Soon, it will burn along side itself within the very flames of it's own hell."_

He reached down and turned a dial. The surface of the table Victor laid upon began to glow a bright red.

"Father, please…" he sobbed, "Somebody stop him!"

Victor's body erupted into a spasm of jerks and screams, spine arching as if on its own from the plate underneath him. The man knelt down and picked up a small can of kerosene and slowly drizzled it over Victor's trembling form.

"_Now, my friends. It is time for this horrid creature to return to the lake of fire from which it crawled."_

Victor's screams were at full hysteria, reaching the highest notes Vegeta could have ever heard come from a young sixteen year old boy. Behind him was a shuddered breath, and Vegeta jerked around to see a young Geo, pale-faced and lanky, eyes wide and wet with tears. His lips were parted, saliva coating that bottom lip. In his hand was a gun.

"Please… do something…" Vegeta breathed.

Geo rose the gun, pointing it with one hand and pulled the trigger.

Following the crack of the gun was silence. Victor lay still on the table, his skin starting to sear against the plate beneath him as it heated up. The man was silent and he dropped both the knife and the bottle of kerosene, staring at the boy. Vegeta remained on his knees, looking up at Geo with wide eyes. Geo's cheeks quickly lined with tears, his cheeks turning red as all eyes were now on him.

He rose the gun away from his line at Victor, and the cold muzzle pressed up against his temple from the right side. With unblinking eyes, he pulled the trigger once again, the left side of his head exploding into a mess before his body slumped and hit the floor with a sickening thud.

The only sound Vegeta could hear then was the sound of his own breathing. He looked away from Geo's now still form and moved his sight to the ground. The crowd around him erupted into panicked screams and soft sirens sounded in the distance. Shadows and ghostly afterimages of men in uniforms, medic and police alike, swarmed the area. The figure of one man, walking calmly-no, solemnly, towards Victor on the table, was dressed in a black police uniform. With a knife, he cut the cords around Victor's wrists and ankles, revealing black and purple bruises around those delicate joints. He reached a hand over Victor's face, wet with tears, and closed his eyelids. He scooped the dead boy in his arms, turned around, and walked away, stepping through Vegeta as if the Saiyan wasn't there.

Vegeta sat there beside himself, head hanging from his shoulders, supported by his arms with his hands folded into fists. Victor's screams and terrified pleas for mercy rung loudly in his ears. The blood that exploded from his torso flashed in his mind again and again and again. Vegeta trembled and he grit his teeth, eyes shut tight. Weakness struck his arms and he collapsed, curling up into a ball and screaming into the air. His hands grabbed at his hair and pulled, his knees coiling up to his chin and his spine arching. He trembled and shook, screaming as loud as he could and ripping strands of hair from his pounding scalp.


	24. White Room

Vegeta sat beside himself, legs up with knees bent, shins crossed, one arm draped along his knees and the other wrapped around his forehead with his head bent forward. His spine was arched and his eyes were half-closed. He was cold and unmoving, the only noticeable shift being the gentle inflation of his torso with each breath he took. He slowly lowered his head, pressing his eyes now closed to the bony edge of his forearm. He felt numb inside, the beating of his heart hardly noticeable. His stomach was sour, curdling at its base and twisting around the middle. Never before had he felt the need to vomit this much without actually doing it. He felt ill, but no symptoms arose. There was a lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow. His face was hot around his cheeks and eye sockets.

The disgusting display had him questioning the true virtue of humanity. He couldn't even imagine Frieza committing such an act, let alone some elderly human man who had supposedly taken the victim under his care. Vegeta shuddered and curled into himself tighter, as if to hide himself from the atrocities of this new reality he found himself being force-fed.

"Kakarot…" he breathed. Goku. He hadn't seen Goku since they were both shot. Vegeta rose his head, pushing thoughts of Victor's demise from the fronts of his thought. He stood up slowly, legs shaking with weakness. The darkness around him had engulfed everything, but slowly lifted as if someone was opening a window. The walls around him were white; a soft milky white that held a gentle, warm blue glow. Everything was silent, and before Vegeta was a single door. He shuddered, his shoulders slumped and hanging from his neck. Walking up to the door, Vegeta gingerly gripped the white ceramic knob, turned it slowly, and opened the door.

He stepped outside, the floor beneath him lighting up with each step he took. The hallway was narrow, the floor and walls white with the exception of the stark, hiding shadow a foot in front of him. He followed the lit path through the labyrinth. It lead on for what seemed like an eternity before Vegeta found himself confronted with another white door. Vegeta reached a hand and draped it over the white knob and gave it a slow twist. He hesitated when it clicked open, but slowly, bit by bit, eased the door open. He was blinded briefly by a bright white light, squinting his eyes hard momentarily and raising his free arm to help shield his eyes. When it died down, Vegeta forced himself to look ahead, staring at a small closet of a room. In the middle was a hospital bed, old fashioned, with an IV stand next to it. Under the sheets, white tainted with splotches of heavy red, was Goku, laying on his back, chin tilted upward, and face twisted in silent agony.

Along Kakarot's normally lightly tanned skin were lines red and darkened by black thread holding two sides of separated skin together, surrounded by bruising from forceful stabbing blows. They littered his body, including one that caught Vegeta's eyes, strewn methodically across his neck below his Adams apple. The room surrounding him was still a pristine white. Next to the bed was a chair and a bedside table. Vegeta, with his frozen heart sinking down to the pit of his stomach, shut the door behind him and inched towards the chair, slowly taking a seat next to his friend.

Slowly, Vegeta looked over Goku's broken form. Normally active and loud, the young Saiyan was still and cold as death on the bed. The only sign of life was the expression his face was frozen into. Reaching up a hand, Vegeta ran his fingers along the forearm underneath the blankets. The arm on the other side was stuck with the IV, the entryway unprotected by medical tape and bruised, as if the insertion of the needle had been stuck and restuck to find the vein. Vegeta lowered his head and he pulled his hand away, steepling his fingertips and resting the bridge of his nose between those of his two index fingers, closing his eyes and breathing a deep breath.

"Kakarot… Who did this to you…" he whispered, eyes still closed, "… Are you even still with me? Can you even hear my voice…? God… None of this makes any sense… I was brought here to witness a tragedy… And you…" Vegeta rose his head, "What the hell happened to you, Kakarot? What could render you asunder like this…?"

Lowering his head again, Vegeta buried his face into his hands, eyes narrowing and brows furrowing hard between his eyes. He rose his head again, shooting up from the chair, "Victor! What can I do! How do I wake someone from a coma!" He stood there, quiet and gritting his teeth. He heard no response, and sighed deeply, lowering his head, "Goddamnit…" He shut his eyes tight and cursed.

A loud, sudden clatter brought Vegeta from his frenzy and he looked at the door. Before the bed sat a wheel chair. The sight of it made Vegeta shudder. Walking over to it, he looked it over before rolling it over to the bedside. Removing the IV from Goku's arm, Vegeta took a loose piece of bandage and wrappd it around the entry wound before he went to the other side and took Goku's arm, bending down and wrapping it over his shoulders.

"Come on, Kakarot… Let's… get out of here…" he said quietly, lifting him up carefully and sitting him in the wheelchair. Once Vegeta was certain that Goku was secure in the chair, he looked back at the bed, seeing the spot of blood from where the saiyan's head had laid. He turned his gaze away and went up to the door, opening it quietly before returning to Goku in the wheelchair and slowly carting him out.


	25. Through the Door

It almost felt as if Vegeta had been pushing Goku, still out cold in the wheelchair, down through the labyrinth of a hallway for hours. His eyes blurred now and again, losing focus as his weary body kept trudging forward. Goku was slumped in the chair, head hanging from his shoulders with his arms placed carefully in his lap. Vegeta's head drooped and hung from his shoulders now and again before he found himself and Goku at the end of the narrow labyrinth. In front of them was a white, ornate door. Sighing, Vegeta rolled Goku back and slipped out in front of him, opening the door and poking his head inside. There was a smaller room, wider but smaller, with four doors, two on the eastern and western walls. Turning around, Vegeta grabbed the arms of Goku's wheelchair and pulled him in before shutting the door. He wheeled Goku to the middle of the room and went about checking out the doors.

The floor beneath them was tiled, and the place was built almost like a showering area. Vegeta cracked open the southern door to the west first and looked inside. There was nothing but cold darkness, and he shut the door quickly before going to the northern door on the eastern wall. He looked inside, seeing a small white room. In the far left corner was a bed with a small stand next to it. Above the stand was a window, shining in a soft, white light. There was a chair on the other side of the side table. Vegeta sighed quietly before leaving the door and returning to Goku in his wheelchair. He wheeled his fellow saiyan into the room and looked at him. The man was still out cold, slumped forward in the wheelchair with his face expressing his previous agony.

"Come on…" Vegeta said quietly as he leaned down and hauled Goku up from the chair. "Into bed you go…" Vegeta eased Goku's limp form into the white bed, covering him up with blankets and pushing the chair out of the way with the idle movements of his legs against it. He looked Goku over with tired, aged eyes. He felt old, years and years older than he had before he was dragged down into hell by Victor's waiting hand. "Need to get out of here," he said idly to himself, the sound of his raspy voice almost feeling foreign to him. He wasn't used to hearing himself speak this way. Relaxed, yet tense. Tired and yet somehow still alert and conscious of everything around him. He wanted to sleep, but was terrified of closing his eyes.

"Stay here," he said quietly, as if Goku needed further instruction while laying there unconscious in bed, "I'll… hopefully be back soon." Vegeta turned away from his friend and rival, in a coma, and left the room. He hated the way he was acting, but he saw no need to put on that cold and calculating mask that he almost always wore. This was different. There was a nightmare brewing all around him, one that felt too familiar for words to him. It made him lose all sense of his own hatred within. Seeing how it morphed Victor in such a way, the mere feeling of it inside of him made him feel disgusting, dirty, filthy, like a sack of skin filled to the bloody seams with black and green mold.

He remembered his hate very much, and it was still heavy within the black depths of his heart. But being in this place, Vegeta felt more than hatred. He despaired. He feared. He wept. He was no longer himself, he felt. Something was changing inside him. Something was inside of him, affecting him strangely. Was it Victor? Was it all Victor's doing? Were these feelings of pain and despair all those of that boy he just saw mutilated? He didn't want to believe it could be so.

Pushing all such thoughts aside, Vegeta trudged forward, checking the two doors he didn't try before, and finding them jammed and locked. He had no choice but to venture through the door that held darkness on the other side. He slid in through with a heavy heart, and allowed the door to shut behind him with a deep, low clonk.

* * *

[[A/N: Hello everyone. First off, I want to apologize for my absence as well as how short this chapter is. Things away from my laptop have been very… unsavory to say the least. I only just today experienced a familial loss and my muse for this story has just been very much gone away. I also want to thank you all for your support and your adoration for my story. Reading and re-reading your reviews and seeing how many of you have favorited and alerted this story as well as me as an author really inspires me to continue this story on… While I'm not exactly in the best of spirits at the moment, I vow to finish this story for all of you who are enjoying it. Thank you!]]


	26. To Hell

The minute Vegeta stepped in through that door and allowed it to shut behind him, he immediately turned back, hand gripping the knob and shaking it. The sight that greeted him was more than sickening. Vegeta had only known true fear once before, and it was just before his fate was sealed in the hands of his former master. No amount of beatings could hold Vegeta forward, and when the door refused to open no matter how hard he jiggled the knob or kicked at the door, or even rammed his shoulder, he slid down against it, screaming out in his agony.

He turned his head away, smashing it against the door, eyes pinched shut and teeth about to crack from the pressure of his jaw. He wailed out again, holding one hand over his eye while the other pounded against the broad side of the door. Across from him, down a claustrophobic stretch of flooring, walls closed in and unforgiving, were the caged and hung bodies of his own. Bulla, naked, brutalized and with her hair up in a ponytail, strung up by barbed wire slicing into her flesh, eyes staring off into nothing like one of the many dolls she played with. Trunks, skinned down to the bone of his joints, upside down in his bird cage, and his untouched face glaring down at the floor, streaks of blood dried over unblinking eyes.

There was no mistaking it. Vegeta fought against the thought, a losing battle, that these two children of his were dead and gone. Mutilated, ravaged, violated, no respect for the dead remained. Whoever had done this left them as nothing more than pieces of meat on their death beds. Vegeta's rage failed him, and all he knew then was pain. Horror. There was no preparation for the utter destruction of his own children. The slaughter of millions, children included, by his own hand, could not have prepared him for this kind of atrocity. Among them, however, Bulma was nowhere to be found.

He gave up in his fight against the door, his knuckles red and beginning to bruise around his wrist. He slumped forward, engulfed in the mourning of his two little ones. What few minutes he could remain there shaking, face burning, felt like multiple eternities. He tried the door again. Still locked. Not even a hint of give. He was stuck there, stuck between an unmoving door and the mutilated remains of his progeny. What then? Move forward? No. He couldn't even manage a glance their way, much less moving forward. Even as his eyes pressed tightly shut, he could still see them so vividly.

They tormented him with their gouged and violated forms. How could he face it? By himself even? The sight of their bodies brought upon him wave after wave of emotions, of sorrow, of guilt. How was he as a parent. Distant, possibly neglectful. Yes, that's right. He would not deny such an accusation but welcome it. Yes, he was an awful parent. He deserved this, he was sure of it. Perhaps they were better off this way.

Vegeta remained there for perhaps an hour, before it was time to move on. The more he huddled against the door, hiding from the sight before him, the more he wondered if this was Victor's doing, firstly the killing, and secondly the image. This couldn't have been real, could it? The lifeless bodies of his offspring could have been mere illusions, tricks that he had fell victim to. He turned his head, catching sight of them again and turning back to the door, the sour swell of anxiety spiking in his chest.

There was no way. There was no conceivable way that he could do this. But he must. If not for Kakarot then for the possibility of his children's now scattered souls. He had to push on. But how?

Vegeta felt at his shirt. Cotton. Dry. He took it off and tore a long strip from the bottom, just the bottom, and put it back on. He took the strip as he slowly stood, his eyes shut. He held up the cloth and put it over his eyes, wrapping it around tightly and tying it at the back of his head. He turned then, his back against the wall, blind to the world before him. He swallowed. He could do this as long as he couldn't see them.

He slowly started forward, keeping his arms tightly at his sides. As he continued, the floor beneath him grew sticky, and the stench of blood was thick in his nostrils. The urge to vomit clawed at his throat and face. But he willed it back, fighting against it as he trudged forward. He felt a stringy lock against his wrist and he jerked his arms inward, in front of him. He must have been right next to them. That notion sent him reeling and he forced himself forward, straggling into a pathetic run before he slammed into something hard and fell back, slamming the back of his head against the floor.

He forced himself up and over, hot bile spilling from the back of his throat. He gripped hard at the ridged floor, the cold, sticky metal that supported him as he continued to wretch for a good ten minutes. When he finally stopped, he dropped to his side. His head was spinning, blind vision under the cloth heavily splotched with fog and color. His heart raced in his chest and he briefly wondered if it was going to fail right then and there. He forced himself up, skin growing cold and clammy, turning away from the rest of the hall and back to the hard surface he ran into.

Vegeta eased off the blindfold and looked up, vision blurred and doubled. Whatever it was, it was tall and silver, with a pad on the right blinking three buttons. Amidst all this rot and blood, the silver slate was out of place. He eased himself to his feet and reached forward, pressing one of the glowing, blurry buttons. With a soft _ding!_ the slate split apart. When his vision returned to what it was before, he realized that it was an elevator. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, slamming his fist against the close button. The doors shut instantly behind him.

Without going any further, Vegeta dropped down against the carpet, pressing himself up against the wall. He brought his knees up, lowering his head down and pressing his hands against his eyes and forehead. He heaved a shaky breath, rocking back and forth once he settled on the floor. It was a while before he growled out, "Why."

Why what?

"Why them. Why that… Why _this_?"

He sat there in silence, coiled up tightly in the corner of the still elevator box. His eyes were shut tight. His breathing was gradually becoming harder and harder with each exhale. His face grew hot. And he shouted, "WHY? What are you trying to prove? What do you want from me!" He slammed his fists down against the wall, tilting his head up against the blinding fluorescent light, "VICTOR!"

There was silence, and Vegeta closed his eyes, the tight pull on his muscles in his grimace fading. "What do you want from me…" it came out as a whisper.

_I want you to kill them._

Vegeta remained motionless, eyes slowly cracking open after a minute. "…Kill who."

_I want you to kill them all. Slaughter them. Kill those who killed me._

"Why my children. Why all of this. Why that? Why give them a fate not even the worst deserve?"

There was more silence then, and the elevator dinged before dropping slowly down the shaft it was fit in. It dropped down slowly, the walls vibrating roughly around him for several minutes. Vegeta gave up on an answer and simply sat there, his eyes glued to the carpet beneath him. His children were dead. He was sure of it. He could still smell the blood that painted their faces like war marks. He still remembered Bulla's face, blank, shining like plastic, cut up and pricked by barbed wire, skin sliced open in wide gashes.

Trunks' entire form was smashed into a bird cage that was too small for him, his head and neck hanging out of a bent opening in the bars. He didn't see his face, only his hair, matted, with a massive impact point on the back of his head, as if he had been bludgeoned by an axe. What was left of his body in the cage was completely red, save for the paleness of his joints, and the dirty, blood-splotched white of his feet and hands.

He recalled it all perfectly, and willed for the image to go elsewhere. He smelled the blood. Their blood. He could still feel the tuft of Trunks' hair against his arm.

The elevator finally stopped, and dinged, the doors slowly opening into a veil of darkness. That's when the answer finally came.

_How else would I have convinced you?_

* * *

_A/N: Oh my goodness gracious, this fic is still here! I'm so sorry to everyone who reads this. Agh, life became horrific and unbearable for a few months, and things were FINALLY settled just recently! And now I have newer and better muse to write for this story. There is an ending in sight, I promise! I will be working on updating this regularly! Don't lose hope! _


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